ABCs of Negan
by alreynolds13
Summary: Smutty drabbles about Negan that are based on each letter of the alphabet.
1. Chapter 1

***Author's Note: So, just to clarify with people, I have NOT abandoned Irresistible Danger. However, as a way to celebrate Negan Smut Week on tumblr, I decided to do an ABCs of Negan celebration, where I write a smutty prompt based on each letter of the alphabet. I know these will take more than one week to complete, but I'm hoping I can get them all done within two weeks. Once I have those finished, I can refocus on Irresistible Danger. I just wanted to clarify because I don't want people flooding me with questions about when I'm going to update ID, because I honestly don't know. I'm immersed in these ABC prompts, and having a grand ol' time with them :D

So for those of you who have tumblr, feel free to follow me on there if you want. My screen name is flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash

Since I know that not everyone has tumblr, or enjoys using it, I will be posting my ABC prompts here for you as well!

These prompts are NOT based off the "you" character from Irresistible Danger. They are random "you" characters, and some of these are in canon Negan, some more off canon, and some will be AU. They will also range from really fluffy smut to really kinky, dirty smut. So head the warnings.

Enjoy! :)

End Author's Note***

 **A is for Asphyxiation**

Arching your back against the mattress with a moan, you shuddered as Negan's thick cock slid deep inside you. Your thighs clenched around his hips when he started to withdraw, trying to keep him locked inside. Thankfully, he didn't pull away for long, slamming back into you with a grunt, causing you to cry out in pleasure. The long drag of his cock against your sensitive inner walls was torture of the best kind.

Looking up at him, you moaned at the vision of him on top of you. His primal gaze was locked onto your own, sweat running down his chest to drip onto your breasts and stomach. You were pretty sure you could come just from the view alone, but you held back, wanting this to last as long as possible.

A surprised shiver ran down your spine when you felt Negan's rough fingers slide across your collarbone and lay across the front of your throat. His hips stilled, cock deep inside you but not providing the delicious friction that you craved. Looking up into his bright hazel eyes, you saw the unspoken question in his gaze, felt his fingers press slightly into your skin...and you nodded.

At your assent, the fingers that had been gently lying across your throat now wrapped around the delicate flesh, not yet squeezing, but still holding firm. Any possible worry about agreeing to this was banished when he gruffly asked, "You trust me, doll?"

You were touched that he would ask, but also knew that consent was an important factor for Negan, and that he wouldn't do anything you didn't agree to. The thought that you were about to trust him with this...with something so important and vital as the oxygen you breathed, caused a spark of heat to rush down your spine.

Nodding again, this time more adamantly, you whispered, "I trust you."

The left side of his lips curled upwards into a smirk, before his expression became serious, and he ordered, "Tap my wrist twice, if you want to stop."

Again touched by a glimpse into the rarely-seen, caring side of Negan, you smiled reassuringly and replied, "Yes, sir."

At this, you saw the softness leave his eyes, replaced by the bright flames of lust that had been there before. His hips snapped sharply against your own, grinding deep, and you cried out at the unexpected thrust. You drew in another breath, meaning to let it out in a moan, but his hand finally tightened around your throat, cutting the sound off before it had a chance to pass your lips.

Your body's first instinct was to tense up, but you forced yourself to relax, letting him take control of the situation...and of you. He gave a few punishing thrusts before loosening his fingers enough to allow you to draw another breath, then tightened his grip again. He repeated this way for what could've been a few minutes or an hour, you weren't sure. Time was no longer measured in minutes or seconds, but in the number of thrusts between each precious breath that he allowed. You were so turned on by the fact that he decided when you could breath and when you couldn't. The idea that he owned not just your body, but your very life, in that moment, caused a shudder of both fear and arousal to pass through your body.

When he started to pick up the pace, and his thrusts became quick and sharp, you knew that he was getting close to his release. However, if there was one thing that Negan was chivalrous about, it was orgasms. He always made sure that the lady came first.

Reaching down with his free hand, he started circling your clit with rough fingertips, at the same time that he again tightened his hand and cut off your oxygen. His voice drifted down as if from a long distance, the words coiling around you seductively, as he commanded, "You don't get another fucking breath until you come on my cock."

His hand on your clit had already rocketed you up close to the precipice of an orgasm, and his words pushed you even further towards that cliff. Spots danced in your vision as he continued to drive his cock into you, and your hands instinctually came up to wrap tightly around his wrist, giving a feeble jerk to try and dislodge his hand. You knew that if you tapped his wrist twice, he would immediately stop…but that wasn't what you wanted. The fear and sense of powerlessness as your body started to jerk and struggle against his, your lungs trying in vain to inhale fresh air, caused your arousal to reach epic proportions. You knew that when you finally fell over the edge, that it would be earth-shattering.

Right when you were at the point where your vision was completely blurred, and you really thought you might pass out, Negan gave an extra deep thrust at the same time that he delivered a well-placed slap to your clit. The combination of sensations drove you instantly up and over, the orgasm hitting you like a freight train at full speed. Your vision went white, and you would've been screaming, if his hand wasn't still wrapped iron-tight around your throat.

He waited until you were right at the height of your orgasm…and then released his grip. Oxygen flooded your lungs in a rush, and the combined sensations of your orgasm coupled with the sweet taste of fresh air, pushed your pleasure to a whole new level. The world around you faded, and every part of your body felt as if it might spontaneously combust. In fact, you were pretty sure that you blacked out for a minute, everything going dark except for the rolling waves of contractions that caused your entire body to jerk and shake.

Slowly drifting down from the high, you were finally able to refocus on your surroundings. Your thighs were twitching uncontrollably, and your throat felt raw and sore. Most likely there would be some interesting marks there for the next few days, but it had been totally worth it. That had officially been the most intense orgasm of your entire life.

Looking up at Negan, you found him staring down at you with an arrogant smirk on his face. Any other time you would've been annoyed at him looking so pleased with himself, but this time it was well and truly deserved. He ran a hand up your side, causing another convulsive shudder to pass through your body. His smirk got even larger at the response, and he traced his fingers over the front of your neck while possessively stating, "You better invest in some fucking scarves, doll. Because _this_ ,"- he pressed lightly into the bruised skin of your throat- "is going to bear my mark from now on. I'll make fucking sure of it."


	2. B is for Body Part

**B is for Body Part**

If you were to ask Negan what his favorite body part on you is, he'd probably smirk and give some vulgar response, such as "your fucking tits" or "that wet, fucking pussy". But, if he were being honest, he would say that he has multiple favorite parts, and they're not the ones you would immediately assume.

First off, he loves your lips. He can tell a lot about a woman by looking at those, and yours are some of the most expressive lips he's ever met. How they tighten into a thin line when he makes some asshole comment, and then part to tell him in no uncertain terms that you don't appreciate said comment. How they curve upwards into a flirtatious smirk when you invite him into your bed. How the bottom one quivers in pleasure when his fingers rub your clit with just the right amount of pressure, and then when they release a grateful cry as you reach your peak. The way they wrap tightly around his cock, giving him so much pleasure that he feels as though you're sucking his soul out through his dick and leading him straight to heaven. And during the times when he's overcome with anger about some compound-related issue, when he feels as if he might explode…those lips will lightly press against his cheek, bringing him back to the present…bringing him back to you.

Secondly, he loves your neck. The tiny, delicate bones covered in soft, sensitive flesh that he just loves to mark with his hands and teeth, to show everyone that you're his. He knows about that spot, right where your neck meets your shoulder. The spot, that when he nips it, causes a full-body shudder. He loves when your neck is adorned with the pretty gold chain he got you, the delicate metal glimmering around the soft skin before trailing down and reaching towards the top of your cleavage, as if showing him the way. He also loves when your neck is adorned with his fingers, and you let him have complete control. When he gets to decide if this part of you is allowed to draw air…and when it isn't.

Last, but not least, he loves your fingers. It might seem silly, and he would use Lucille to beat the holy fuck out of anyone if they knew, but your fingers both mesmerize and arouse him. And not just when they're engaged in sexual acts, such as wrapping around his cock, grabbing his ass, or rubbing your own clit (although god damn, does he love all of those things). But it's more than that. It's the way your fingers look when holding a book, the graceful digits delicately turning each page. How you lay the tip of one gently in the groove above your lips when deep in thought. The way they lay against the side of his cheek in comfort, the tips running teasingly through his beard before you use those gorgeous lips to kiss him. And when they grab onto his shoulders tightly as he brings you pleasure, before trailing down through the hair on his chest, the nail scraping deliciously against his flesh and leaving marks. How your fingers intertwine perfectly with his own, when the two of you are alone. He especially enjoys the way that your one finger sparkles with the tiny gold band he gave you, when he asked you to be his one and only wife. When he admitted that the others were no longer needed, and that you, with your lips and neck and fingers, were more than enough woman for him.

Negan has a lot of favorite body parts, but when it comes to you, those are his favorites. Yes…those are the parts that he loves the most.


	3. C is for Climax

**C is for Climax**

How does Negan look when he orgasms? The sight of Negan climaxing is easily one of the most beautiful things you've ever seen…but don't let him hear you say that. He even has different faces that he tends to make, depending on the type and intensity of the sex being had.

For example, the way he looks when you're giving him a blowjob. He'll grip your hair with one hand, the other on his cock, feeding it to you slowly. A strangled groan leaves his throat as he watches the hard flesh disappear between your full lips. He'll focus intently on the motions of your hands and mouth on him, hissing his pleasure when you hit a particularly sensitive spot. When he starts to get close to the peak, he'll grit his teeth and bear them like a wild animal, continuing to watch you until the pleasure becomes too much. Until he throws his head back and moans up at the ceiling, his thighs twitching beneath your hands as you swallow down all that he has to give.

There's also the way he looks when the sex is quicker and more primal. When he's driving down into you, hard and deep, growls and grunts falling from his lips each time he slams into your wet pussy. His peak builds faster like this, and the more he tries to hold it back, the more animalistic he appears. Sweat will start dripping down over his skin, before falling onto your own overheated flesh. You watch as the veins pulse in his neck and the corded muscles in his chest and shoulders strain and flex above you, his jaw clenched tightly as his stare bores down into your own. When he falls over the edge, his eyes close with the intensity of the orgasm, strangled groans falling from his throat as his cock pulses its release inside you, sending you up and over, as well.

There's also the face he makes when the sex is less intense, when it's slower and more intimate. When he takes his time pushing you both towards that pinnacle of pleasure. His thrusts are steady and slow, and meant to drive the both of you mad. He holds your gaze when you peak first, that hazel fire watching closely as you shatter around him. When your spasming walls around his cock push him to the brink, as well, he'll drop his face into the crook of your neck and groan out his pleasure, lips sucking at your throat and beard rubbing against your sensitive flesh. Usually this is fine…more than fine. But sometimes, you refuse to let him hide. You'll cup his face and lift it back up in front of yours, grabbing his gaze and daring him not to look away, not to censor his pleasure. You watch as his eyes glaze over, the pupils dilating until his gaze is so deep an espresso, as to appear almost black. His mouth parts and eyes widen as he gasps for air before letting out a long moan as the shockwaves start to ripple through his body. It's at this moment, that he looks as if he's in awe of you. As if your pussy just led him up the holy stairway and gave him a glimpse of heaven.

Sometimes, just watching him climax is so arousing that your body surges back up to the edge. The sound of his moans in your ear, his beautiful face full of pleasure in front of you, and the feel of his cock releasing deep inside you, all combining to rocket you into a second orgasm. When you both come back down to earth, you'll sometimes catch a dreamy, pleased grin on his lips. That grin lets you know that he's been well and truly satisfied. Well…at least for the time being.


	4. D is for Dirty Talk

**D is for Dirty Talk**

Does Negan enjoy dirty talk? Oh lord, now _there's_ an interesting topic.

First off, let's discuss the fact that no matter what words come out of that man's mouth, they will _always_ sound dirty. If there was ever a voice made with sinful intentions in mind, it's Negan's. That low, sandpaper-over-gravel drawl of his caused goosebumps anytime he focused it in your direction, even if it were to say something as simple as, "Hey, doll." You were pretty sure that Negan could read you the telephone book, and you'd orgasm from his voice alone before he even got halfway through the As.

It didn't take long for Negan to realize how much his voice affected you. And it was extra obvious the first time he fucked you.

He had started off by kissing you until you were panting and begging him to do more. And when he gave the whispered command in your ear, "Take off your fucking clothes for me," the moan you had let out in reply had been so needy that he looked at you in surprise, before curling his lips up into a devil's smirk. It was then that he knew…his voice made you wet. And from that point forward, he made sure to use that knowledge to his advantage.

His best lines came when he was balls deep inside you, his cock providing you with the kind of nirvana you had only dreamt about before the apocalypse. He would lean down and whisper in your ear something like, "You're so fucking tight around my goddamn dick, doll. Jesus fuck!" Or when you were on top, riding him as if he were a racing stallion and you were on the home stretch to the finish line, he would say something like, "That's it, baby girl. Make yourself come. Come all over this big, fat dick!" Those lines were always guaranteed to get you off in record time, and he knew it. There was nothing Negan wouldn't say, no dirty word or phrase that was exempt from his vocabulary. Not when his end goal was to drive you out of your mind with pleasure.

And then there was the first time he convinced you to try anal. You had been skeptical, even though it was something that he had mentioned a few times in the past. But, god damn, how were you supposed to deny him when he thrust his fingers in your pussy, his teeth nipping at your throat, as he used that voice of the devil to ask if he could, "Please stick it in your ass, doll?" Your head was nodding in agreement before your brain even fully processed whether this was a good idea. And, at first, you really thought it had been a mistake. His dick was so thick, that even after he had prepared you as best he could with his fingers and tongue, you were convinced that there was no way in hell that monster cock was going to fit in your ass. However, you should've known not to doubt the power of Negan's voice.

His purred encouragement caused shivers to run up and down your spine, and you were helpless to deny him when he ordered, "Relax. Just fucking relax and let me in, doll. Yes, just like that. Take my fucking cock. Christ, yes." He gave a deep groan of ecstasy when he was finally balls deep inside you. "Good girl. You're my good little fucking girl, aren't ya?"

His thrusts picked up the pace, causing you to gasp for breath at the sensations. It was almost too much, but his voice kept you captivated, the filthy words tumbling out of his mouth as he snarled, "Now milk my fucking dick with that ass, girl. Do it…just like that. Yeah, that's fucking perfect. Look at that tight little ass…your pussy and ass are mine now, aren't they?" When all you did was moan in response, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back sharply. "Fucking answer me, doll. Tell me if this ass and pussy are mine." When you whimpered an affirmative, he chuckled, "Fucking right, they are. Fucking god damn right."

Needless to say, you were coming all over him within minutes, his voice full of vulgar praises and filthy commands. With anyone else you would've felt embarrassed by the things he said…and the things you were willing to say in return. But with Negan, there were no limits to his vulgarity, whether inside or outside the bedroom. He was so unashamed in his language, that you quickly found yourself not only enjoying it, but thriving off of it. It didn't take long before you were willing to do just about anything he asked for the reward of him calling you his "fucking good little girl."

Yes, Negan enjoyed dirty talk…he enjoyed it because he knew that his voice made you come harder and faster than you ever had before. It wasn't every man who could make a woman cream her panties just from the sound of his voice. And, well, who was he to deny utilizing a God-given talent such as that? And who were you to resist?


	5. E is for Experimental

**E is for Experimental**

Negan looked at you dubiously, his brows furrowed deep in thought. You reached down and gave his dick a couple fast strokes through his jeans, and were rewarded with a low moan.

"Come on, baby, just this once?" you pleaded, giving him your best begging face. "I promise it'll be worth it."

He considered for another few long seconds then gave a huff and shake of his head, before acquiescing, "Fine, doll. Fucking fine."

Trying not to squeal and jump up and down with excitement, you got off the bed, where Negan was lounging shirtless among the crimson sheets. Standing at the foot of the bed, you placed a finger against your upper lip and looked at him, considering.

"I think the pants and boots need to go," you suggested lightly.

Negan smirked. "Doll, if you're going to take charge of the situation, you gotta say it like you mean it."

Frowning and squinting your eyes at his words, you realized that he was right. You were so used to Negan being in control, that even though he had agreed to let you have the reigns this time, you were hesitant to do so.

Straightening your shoulders and affecting a more serious, commanding tone, you ordered, "Take off your pants and boots. Now."

Negan's eyebrows rose at the change of tone, before he nodded and drawled, "Yes, ma'am." He leaned down and kicked off his boots before unzipping his jeans and sliding them down his legs to kick off the side of the bed, leaving him in a pair of black boxer briefs. You walked over to the armoire and opened the drawer where Negan kept some of his toys. Pulling out a pair of handcuffs, you walked back to the bed, stripping off your shirt and shorts, leaving you in a bra that was black with purple-trimmed lace, and a pair of matching panties.

Negan groaned at the sight, and when you walked around to the side of the massive bed to stand near the headboard, he reached out to try and snag an arm around your waist. Jumping back out of reach, you scolded, "Ah ah, no touching, mister. Now lay down and put your arms above your head."

He looked like he wanted to argue. He eyed the handcuffs in your hand for a few moments skeptically, and you were convinced that he wasn't going to go through with this. That his pride and ego wouldn't let you take control to this extent. You were pleasantly surprised when he gave a sigh and laid down on the bed, his long, lean arms stretching above his head submissively. The warm, fuzzy thought hit that this showed more than anything just how much he trusted you.

Leaning over, you clicked one of the cuffs around his wrist, before threading it through the headboard and hooking it around his other wrist, successfully capturing him. He gave a tug at the cuffs, as if to test them, and you grinned when they didn't budge. You ran your fingers down his arms slowly before cupping his face with your palm, his salt-and-pepper beard an erotic friction against your hand. You then slid your fingers down over his throat, tracing the skull and crossbones tattoo on his left pec and feeling the second, softer layer of salt-and-pepper hair that covered his chest.

When you got to his hips, you hooked fingers in the sides of his boxer briefs and pulled them down his long, toned legs, exposing his cock. It was fully erect, standing tall and proud against his stomach, the dripping head showcasing just how much he was enjoying this. You were about to crawl up on the bed and take that delicious cock between your lips when you had an idea…a very, _very_ naughty idea.

Looking around the room, you saw Lucille lying across the couch near the door. Walking over, you picked her up delicately, the cool wood in your palm causing a dart of power to flow through your limbs. You wondered if this was how Negan felt when he held her: unstoppable and completely in control.

Walking back over to stand beside the bed, you saw that Negan's gaze was fixated on Lucille. His eyes flashed nervously, but his voice was steady when he asked, "Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Swinging Lucille down, so that she pointed in Negan's face, you accused, "Watch your language. Lucille and I are ladies, and will be talked to as such."

You saw the moment that Negan realized you weren't playing anymore; that you were well and truly in control…and enjoying it. He stared up the length of Lucille and met your gaze, giving a quiet nod before replying, "Yes, ma'am."

God, those words out of his mouth made you wet.

Moving Lucille down so that she lingered over his chest, you commanded, "Don't move," before lightly pressing Lucille into the top of Negan's chest. He gave a groan of pleasure when you slowly drug the barbed tips down the center of his chest to his stomach, leaving red scratches behind. Both you and Negan were surprised to find out just how much of a turn on this was, and when you moved Lucille down to trail over Negan's hip, just inches from his cock, he let out a sound that was suspiciously close to a whimper.

"Fucking hell, doll," he gritted through clenched teeth.

"I thought I told you to watch your fucking language," you growled, and pressed Lucille into his thigh just a little harder than before, causing pinpricks of blood to raise on his skin. He gave a strangled moan and started panting, twisting his arms as if to try and get out of the cuffs, but they held strong.

"Now, if you be a good boy for me, and ask real nicely, perhaps I'll suck your cock," you taunted, swinging Lucille back and forth above his torso. Negan watched her pendulum motion as if in awe, and he uttered the words, "Please, doll."

"Please what?" you asked, a smirk curling your lips.

He growled and jerked unsuccessfully against the cuffs again. While you may have Negan currently at your mercy, you weren't stupid enough to think that he was well and truly tamed. It would be like trying to domesticate a caged tiger. Sure, you knew that it couldn't attack you with the metal bars in place, but if you tried to reach through the bars and pet its beautiful body, there was still a chance of losing your hand.

Finally, he gave a snarl and relented, "Please suck my cock!"

Grinning, you teased, "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Moving down to the foot of the bed, you crawled up to kneel between his spread thighs, still gripping Lucille tightly. You wrapped your free hand around Negan's cock, and his head fell back with a moan.

"You're about to blow your load already, aren't you? I think you enjoyed Lucille's foreplay, you naughty little boy," you whispered, before leaning down and taking his cock into your mouth.

Negan started moaning in earnest as you worked your tongue and lips down over him, gently scraping with your teeth to add a slight edge of pain, just how Negan liked it. He was at the edge within minutes, his hips jerking up and down and his arms pulling at the handcuffs, causing the metal to clang loudly against the headboard. Deciding to push his limits just a little more, you brought Lucille down so that she laid on the sensitive flesh of his lower stomach, right above where your mouth was wrapped around his cock.

You sped up your motions, keeping the pace until Negan gave a cry that let you know his orgasm was imminent, and moments away. It was then that you released him from your mouth with a pop, pulling his cock down towards his thighs with your fingers and letting go. It bobbed back up towards his stomach…and knocked against Lucille.

He came with a loud shout, his body jerking and shuddering violently, cum jetting up out of his cock in foreful spurts before landing on his stomach and thighs. You wrapped your hand back around his hard flesh, stroking him through it, your fingers smearing the pinpricks of blood that had beaded on his cock from Lucille's brutal yet erotic kiss.

When he was done coming, his body settling down to random shivers and involuntary jerks, you crawled up over his chest and released him from the handcuffs. He looked up at you in awe when you moved back down to straddle his hips, your finger scooping up a streak of cum that was on his chest, before lifting your finger to your mouth and sucking it clean.

"Well now," you gloated, a seductive smile on your lips as you stared down at him. "I'd say that was definitely worth it, wouldn't you?"

His only response was a growl as he sat up and threw you to the side, his body covering yours as he proceeded to reestablish his control over you…and show you that turnabout was fair play.


	6. F is for Favorite Position

**F is for Favorite Position**

What is Negan's favorite sexual position? I'd say a better question would be what are Negan's favorite positions, plural, since he'd complain that it's "fucking unfair to expect me to pick just one way I wanna fuck."

His first favorite is when you're on top, riding him. It doesn't matter if it's on his bed, in his truck, or when he's sitting at his desk chair. So long as he has you on top of him, bouncing up and down on his cock, he's sure to be a happy man. This position gives him unrestricted access to cup and squeeze your jiggling breasts, twisting the nipples until you whine. It allows him to reach up and wrap his fingers around your throat, or thread them through your hair before grabbing a handful and pulling, both moves meant to remind you that _he_ is the one in control. In this position, he can grasp your hips and hold you down tight on his cock, then push your hips back and forth quickly, your clit grinding against his pubic bone until you come. Or, when he's had enough of letting you set the pace, he'll pull your hips up off his cock, before bracing his feet against the floor or mattress and jack hammering up into you, his pace fast and brutal and guaranteed to make you scream.

Another favorite position of Negan's is doggy-style, and he'll do it just about anywhere. He loves pushing you up against the wall face-first, or draping you over the arm of his couch, or the front of his desk. Or maybe he'll push you onto all fours in the middle of the mattress and fuck you that way. Sometimes he'll even order you to get on your hands and knees right there on the floor, so that he can pound you across it until your knees are raw with carpet burn. He loves the sight of your ass up in the air, his cock plunging in and out of your dripping pussy. The way you arch your back and shudder when he runs his fingers down the length of your spine. And when he leans down and drapes his chest over your back, blanketing your body, he can nip and suck at the back of your neck before reaching one hand around to finger your clit until you gush all over his cock.

There's also that other position…the one you showed him one night, when you wanted to be more intimate, and he begrudgingly agreed. You had climbed in his lap when he was sitting naked in the middle of his bed with legs stretched out in front of him. Your own legs had wrapped around his hips, locking his cock deep inside you. Your upper bodies were molded together; your sensitive, full breasts pressed against his hard chest and soft chest hair. In this position, he couldn't thrust in and out of you the way he usually preferred. Instead, he had felt a little awkward at first, sitting there with your face directly in front of him and your eyes staring into his, as if you could see to the depths of his soul. You had reached up and ran a hand softly through his hair, before bringing your fingers down to slowly trace his features. The arch of his brow, the blade of his nose, the curve of his lips. Your nails had scratched lightly over his beard, and damn if that didn't send a spark of lightning down his spine and straight to his cock.

When your hands had moved down over his shoulders and started trailing across his chest, teasing his nipples while you leaned forward and licked the drop of sweat trailing down the side of his neck, he knew that he was a goner. That no matter how many times or how many ways he had fucked you in the past…now, like this, he was yours. He didn't know how long the two of you stayed locked like that, slowly tracing each other's bodies and becoming acquainted in a way that was more personal and intimate than anything he had ever done with his dick inside a woman. He had watched, amazed, when you came just from those light touches, shivering and shuddering in his lap while his dick twitched inside you, the pleasure extraordinary…even though he didn't come himself. It had gone on that way for what felt like hours, and maybe it really _had_ lasted that long. He lost count of the number of orgasms you had in his lap. They were more subdued than the ones he was used to providing you, but the fact that they came not from his dick thrusting into you, but from his fingers and lips on your skin, had him in awe. He couldn't get enough of how your eyes fluttered closed when he trailed fingers down the curve of your waist, how you gasped for breath when his lips touched your collarbone, the way you shivered when he lightly stroked the inside of your elbow. When he finally came, it wasn't in hot, fast spurts like he was used to. It was long and rolling, and it nearly undid him.

Negan might have a couple preferred sexual positions when it comes to fucking his wives, mostly woman on top and doggy-style. However, when asked what his _favorite_ sexual position is, he'd probably have to go with that last one…but only if it's with you.


	7. G is for Give or Take

**G is for Give or Take**

Is Negan more of a giver in the bedroom, or a taker? Well, it's safe for you to say that he is most certainly, and without a doubt, the former. While Negan might take lots of things from other people, such as the supplies from other communities or the dignities and lives of those who cross him, there is one thing that he absolutely loves to give. And that thing is orgasms.

Sometimes, you swear that it's a challenge for him to see how many times and how many ways he can make you come, on any given day. Whether it's from a day-long marathon of hot sex in his big bed, or him grabbing you at random times throughout the day, Negan is always looking for new ways to give you an orgasm. For example, there was the time when you were walking down the hall towards commissary, minding your own business. You had turned a corner, and barely had time to register that Negan was turning the corner in the opposite direction, before he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the nearby broom closet. There, he proceeded to pull down your pants, drop to his knees, and cause your screams to echo through the small space as he ate your pussy like his life depended on it. When you had come all over his lips and tongue, absolutely soaking him in your release, he had stood up and smirked arrogantly, as if he knew that he had just tilted your world on its axis. He had then calmly left the broom closet and continued on his way, as if nothing had even happened.

And then, there were the instances when he didn't even care about privacy. Like the time when he had been conversing with his top Saviors, all of them sitting around a large table, like a rag tag version of a corporate meeting. You had brought them refreshments, like Negan had requested, but as you were about to leave, he had beckoned you over to him. You had gasped in surprise when he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to sit on his knee. Your face had turned red as his hand slid under the hem of your shirt, his leather-coated thumb rubbing tantalizing circles on your stomach, while he continued to discuss numbers and strategies with his men. They had all pointedly not looked at you, instead nodding and listening intently to Negan, as if you weren't even there. The table was high enough that you were concealed from the waist down, but that didn't stop you from freezing in shock when Negan unbuttoned your jeans with one hand, then lowered the zipper. Looking up at his profile, you were almost annoyed with how calm and collected he looked, his gaze fixed on his men as he continued to talk about some topic. You had no clue what they were discussing at that point, because it was then that Negan's leather-coated fingers dipped into your jeans, under your panties, and parted your slit.

Within minutes, he had two fingers knuckle-deep inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit. It had taken all of your concentration and restraint to keep a semi-neutral face, wiggling your hips below the table and breathing heavily. You had let out a few quiet moans and whimpers, not loud enough for any of the Saviors to hear, but loud enough that the curl of Negan's lips let you know that he had heard. And when you couldn't take it anymore, when his magical fingers drove you over the edge of an orgasm, you had clenched your teeth and dug your nails into the leather of his sleeve. Releasing a gasp and a slightly louder moan, the Savior closest to you to had glanced curiously in your direction, before quickly glancing away to refocus on Negan. When you had finished, and finally felt able to move without toppling off Negan's lap and onto the floor, you had re-buttoned your pants and stood up. Wobbling to the door on shaky legs, you had barely made it back to your room before collapsing on the bed and staring dazedly up at the ceiling.

And the best part was, Negan didn't seem to mind when you got off and he didn't. Most men you had known would expect you to return the favor as soon as possible, giving some lame-ass comment about "blue balls" or how "unfair" it was for you to have an orgasm without them. But not Negan. No, he seemed to thrive on getting you off, even if it meant his own dick never left his pants. So long as he had you writhing and whining and begging for the type of heavenly pleasure that only he could provide, he was happy. And when he did finally decide that it was his turn to take…when he finallylet himself relax, sit back, and allow you to give _him_ pleasure, it felt as if you had just been gifted the keys to the city. And lord…did you _ever_ enjoy when you got to show him that turnabout was fair play.


	8. H is for Handjob

**H is for Handjob**

Watching the passing trees fly by out the driver's side window, before turning your head to look over at Negan. He and the Saviors had just completed a successful supply run, and the big van was packed with all sorts of goodies for The Sanctuary. While the rest of the men had crammed into the pickup truck and led the way back to the compound, you and Negan had decided to follow behind in the supply van. The truck of men was chugging along in front of you, and you could clearly see some of them laughing and high fiving through the back window. Everyone was in good spirits from the load of useful supplies that had been found on the run.

Well, everyone but Negan. He still had a serious expression on his face, and hadn't said much except, "Well fucking done," as the supplies were all loaded into the van.

You and Negan had started fucking just a few weeks ago; you had tried to resist the gruff, powerful man, but he had broken down your resolve. Although, to be fair, it didn't take too much cajoling on his part, what with that voice and those eyes and that beautiful fucking body of his. However, you had made it clear that you were not going to become one of his wives, and also that you weren't going to give up your spot as one of his Saviors. You were damned adept at your job, and were proud as hell to be his only female Savior. He had agreed, saying you were too valuable to just throw in lingerie and allow to waste away on a couch with his other wives. So here you were, alone in a van with him after a successful supply run, yet not celebrating. But you were about to change that.

Keeping your face turned forward, watching the road and the truck of men ahead, you slid your left hand along the seat and towards Negan. Your fingers trailed up over his hip and landed on his crotch. You saw Negan glance over in your peripheral vision, his rough voice asking, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Knowing that he wasn't actually mad, you smirked and taunted, "Just wait and see."

Turning your head in order to see what you were doing, you unbuckled his belt with one hand, which wasn't the easiest of feats. However, you didn't want to lean over too far, or else anyone in the truck ahead could look back and notice that something was off. Once you had finally completed your goal, you lowered the zipper on his jeans, pleased to find that he wasn't wearing any underwear.

He gave a hiss when you pulled his already hardening dick out of his pants, before hoarsely saying, "Fucking hell, doll."

When he looked over and met your gaze, you gave a big smile and winked at him playfully, before giving his dick a squeeze. Removing your hand, you spit into the palm, then reached back over, grabbing his cock and stroking him slowly. Negan gave a small groan and you saw his hands tighten slightly on the steering wheel.

"Sweetheart, you keep that up, and we're going to need a real fucking good excuse for why we end up turned over in a fucking ditch."

Giving a laugh, you purred, "Guess you better keep your focus on the road then, Sir."

Your hand picked up its pace, sliding up and down his thick flesh, your finger swiping over the sensitive slit at the top with every upward stroke. When sweat started to break out on Negan's temples, and he was gritting his teeth while periodically moaning, you knew that it wouldn't take long for him to reach his peak. You were limited in what you could do for him while trying to maintain your upright posture and not being obvious to the others but….

"Fuck it," you growled, leaning over and adding your right hand to the mix, at this point not giving a shit if anyone in the truck suspected what was happening. You used your second hand to cup Negan's balls and roll them between your fingers, while your left hand picked up the pace even more, giving a twist with every downward stroke, which you knew drove Negan crazy. His cock was red and pulsing, with pre-come pooling at the tip. You smeared it with your thumb, causing him to give what sounded suspiciously like a whine. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead, and his knuckles were white from his death-grip on the wheel. You saw a drop of sweat slid down his cheek and into his beard, and wished you could hop across the console and lick it off, could taste his tan, muscular flesh beneath your tongue.

Negan's hips started to jerk up off the seat with every stroke, and his voice was even deeper and more raspy than usual when he said, "If you don't stop, I'm going to-"

"Do it," you ordered, not caring if it came out more a demand than a request.

Negan obviously didn't mind either, because with your words, he gave a deep growl and started to come. You felt the van jerk slightly, as he struggled to maintain control over his driving while simultaneously giving up control of his cock to you. And Negan giving up control was a beautiful sight to behold. You watched in awe as thick ropes of cum spurted from his cock to land on his jeans and your hand. His hips canted and his face turned red as he snarled and moaned his way through the orgasm. You continued to stroke him through it, until he had no more to give; until he twitched away from the suddenly overwhelming sensations of your hands with a groan.

Releasing him, you sat back upright in your seat, glad to see that none of the men in the truck were paying you or Negan any attention. He looked over at you, and you held his gaze while lifting your hand to your mouth and licking off the streaks of cum on your fingers. He groaned and turned his attention back to the road before growling, "Jesus fuck, doll. You're going to be the death of me."

Smiling happily, you replied, "Don't go dying on me yet. That was only a preview of what I hope to do to you when we get back to The Sanctuary."

A devious smirk curled his lips at your words. You couldn't help but laugh when Negan honked the van's horn and yelled out the open window at the truck, "Hurry the fuck up! I got a celebratory fucking to get home to!"


	9. I is for Inappropriate Location

**I is for Inappropriate Location**

When it came to sex and location, Negan was always up for pushing the limits and convincing you to fuck him in some pretty non-traditional places.

There was that time when he told you to meet him at the front gates early in the morning, but he didn't tell you why. When you arrived, you saw one of the pick-up trucks reserved for supply runs and other important outings parked in front of the gate. Negan opened the passenger door and beckoned you to get in, saying that you were going for "a ride." You should've known from the twinkle in his eye just what kind of ride that meant.

Twenty minutes later and you were parked along the side of the road…where the real ride started. Negan had pushed his seat back, drug you across the console, and straddled your legs over his own. He had practically ripped the jeans and panties down your thighs, his fingers diving into your already-wet pussy, as he helped pull your shirt and bra up over your head with his other hand. When he gave the growled command, "Unzip me, doll," you scurried to undo his buckle and jerk down the zipper of his jeans. Pulling his big, hard cock out of his pants, you moaned at the sight. There was already a drop of pre-cum beading at the tip, the head a dark red color, looking almost angry in its desire for you. Spitting on your hand for extra lubrication, you reached down and took hold of him, just the feel of him on your palm enough to make you moan. He was so thick that your fingers were barely able to wrap the entire way around. You only got a few pumps in before he pulled your hand away with a groan.

His gloved hands grasped your hips and pulled you up and over his cock, before sliding you down slowly. You whimpered at the sensation of your sensitive walls stretching to accommodate him; no matter how many times you and Negan fucked, it always felt as if you were welcoming him inside for the first time. A guttural cry left your lips when he was finally seated to the hilt, and he gave an answering groan. Wiggling your hips back and forth caused him to give another groan, and you couldn't help the smile that tipped your lips at the sound.

Of course, he noticed. Meeting your gaze with his own, he growled, "You look mighty proud of yourself, doll."

Swiveling your hips again, you bit your bottom lip seductively and purred, "I have you underneath me, with your dick in my pussy. Of course I'm proud."

Giving a deep chuckle, Negan taunted, "Oh, sweetheart, just because you're on top…doesn't mean you're in control."

With that, his hands tightened on your hips, and he lifted you up and off his cock…before slamming you back down. Crying out in surprise, your hands flew to his shoulders for leverage as Negan set a fast and brutal pace. With knees braced on either side of him on the seat, you used your thighs to help facilitate the up and down motion, his own hips coming up off the seat to meet yours with every thrust.

While you knew that the chances of someone else driving down this road were slim to none, it still felt dirty to be fucking out in the open like this. And the fact that you were completely naked, while Negan was still completely dressed, made the situation feel even more taboo…and sexy.

With every thrust, Negan ground your hips down against his own, causing the cold metal of his zipper to rub against your clit. That cool burn, coupled with his balls slapping into your ass, pushed your pleasure even higher. You cried out with every deep thrust, one hand trailing down over Negan's scarf to grasp the front of his leather jacket, the feel of a second zipper smooth and cool under your palm. Looking at Negan, you mewled at the sight of him staring down, watching the sight of his cock disappearing in and out of your pussy, as if he were mesmerized.

Your rhythm was slightly thrown off when you shook your hair out of your face, and in the process, glanced out the driver's side window. There, out in the middle of the field, was a group of about a dozen walkers…and they were headed this way.

"Negan," you gasped, bringing your other hand off his shoulder to grasp his chin, gently pulling his face up and to the side, so that he would see them, as well. Instead of him stopping, or giving a string of curses, you were surprised when a devious smirk crossed his lips. Looking up at you, he taunted, "Well, baby girl. I guess you better hurry the fuck up and come real fucking fast."

At this, he brought one leather-covered hand from your hip and placed his fingers directly on your clit. You cried out at the feel of the smooth, cool fabric on your overheated flesh. Your cry turned to a moan when he started quickly rubbing your clit, as if his life depended on your orgasm. And technically, it did. If you didn't come, and soon, the walkers in the field would quickly surround the truck. They seemed drawn by your up and down movements, their dull gazes fixated on you.

Another gloved hand grabbed your face, bringing it back to meet his gaze. Between the heat of his gaze and the coolness of his zipper and leather-coated fingers, you felt your orgasm build until you were so focused on the approaching pleasure, that the nearby walkers faded from your memory.

"Come on, doll. Come for me. Let me fucking see it," Negan growled, his hips starting to falter as his own orgasm approached.

You went up and over, the sensations causing you to scream his name as powerful waves of pleasure hit your body and took you under, strong as an undertow. You heard Negan give his own, quieter cry of pleasure, and refocused your gaze in time to see him throw his head back, mouth open as he found his own peak.

You both came down off the high together, Negan leaning forward to press his forehead against your own, while you both tried to fill your lungs with enough oxygen. When you felt able to move without tumbling to the floor of the truck, you drug yourself back across the console at the same time that you saw the first walker slam its decaying hand against the driver's side window.

Negan looked over at the animated corpse before giving it a big leather-coated middle finger and announcing, "You were too late, mother fucker!" as he put the truck in drive and sped off down the road. Looking over, he caught your gaze, the two of you grinning at one another like school children. Turning his eyes back to the road, Negan reached down near his feet with one hand, feeling around before bringing up your discarded pair of panties. You went to take them from him, but he instead tucked them into the front pocket of his jacket.

With a smirk on his sinful lips, he joked, "You got twenty fucking minutes to get your clothes back on in a moving truck, doll. To save you some hassle, I'll keep these as my souvenir."

"Souvenir of what?" you asked saucily. "The millionth time you fucked me?"

Laughing at your sass, Negan replied, "Nah, doll. It's to remind me that while there will always be walkers coming for us…they'll never come as fast as you."

Blushing at his words, you grabbed your bra from where it was dangling on the dashboard and started to get dressed. Negan whistled a joyful tune as he zipped his pants and drove you back to The Sanctuary.


	10. J is for Jizz

**J is for Jizz**

Where does Negan like to see his jizz on a woman? An easier question to answer would probably be where _doesn't_ he like to see it, because the answer to that would be: nowhere.

Negan is a dominant, kinky man, and so he loves to see proof of his claim over you. And what better way to mark his claim than by seeing your luscious body streaked with his cum? Whether it's sprayed on your heaving tits, pooled on your soft stomach, streaked across your ass, or covering your fingers tips and dripping down your forearm, Negan enjoys the sight of his release on your flesh.

He especially loves when you allow him to come on your face, for what better way to establish his dominance than to have you kneeing at his feet, mouth opened obediently and tongue ready to receive his load. And he's not opposed to the taste of his own cum, as shown by him bending down afterwards and kissing you for all he's worth. In fact, his release smeared between both of your mouths only serves to stir his desire once more, readying him for round two.

However, Negan's favorite places to see his jizz are probably in your pussy and ass. The view of his cream dripping out of your pulsing holes and running down your thigh is one of the sexiest he has ever beheld. Sometimes he'll pull out after ejaculating and hold your thighs spread, his gaze fixated on the sight of the white liquid trickling out to soak your labia and pubic hair, before falling in drops to the sheets beneath you. Sometimes you think that Negan would keep you constantly filled with his cum, if he could. And while that might not be a realistic goal, it sure doesn't stop him from trying, every chance he gets.


	11. K is for KinkDaddy Kink

**K is for Kink…Daddy Kink**

It was late in the evening when you got the message from Sherry: Negan was back.

Excitement trickled along your limbs, causing goosebumps, as you considered what this meant. You knew _exactly_ what kind of mood Negan would be in when he first came back from a supply run. He would still be flying high on adrenaline, especially since he probably gave the people at Alexandria a good scare, just to make sure they stayed in line. And when he was hopped up on the power and adrenaline from a run, he was certain to come pay you a visit. You were his drug of choice…and you were always itching to give him another hit.

Pulling on your crimson, see-through teddy and matching lacy panties, you arranged yourself carefully on your queen-sized bed. Laying/Lying? (I'm not sure which right now) down on your side, your shoulders were lifted and your waist was arched in the way that best emphasized your curves and showcased your cleavage. A book was held loosely in your hand, as a lame attempt to appear as if you weren't expecting him.

When a knock came at the door, your breath caught in excitement, so that it took a couple seconds before you could fill in your lungs with enough air to call, "Come in!"

The door opened, and there he stood. You felt a rush of wetness between your thighs at the sight of Negan standing at the threshold to your bedroom. He took one look at you, positioned on the bed, and his lips curved upwards before parting to showcase white teeth surrounded by a salt-and-pepper beard that you knew firsthand left the most glorious of marks on the sensitive areas of your flesh.

He stepped into the room, and closed the door behind him. When his long, gloved fingers turned the lock, you felt your heartrate speed up in response. He walked to the foot of the bed, gaze trailing over your half-naked form. His tongue came out and slowly licked along his bottom lip before he captured it between his teeth and gave an even bigger grin. Dear god, just that action alone made you want to spread your legs and beg him to do whatever he wanted.

Pulling off his gloves and shrugging out of his jacket, he reached down and ran a bare hand along the length of your exposed calf, fingers trailing down over the soft flesh. When he reached your ankle, he suddenly wrapped his fingers around the delicate bones and quickly pulled you down to the edge of the bed in front of him. Gasping, the book fell unnoticed to the floor as you found yourself on your back, staring up at Negan. His eyes were glowing with a mixture of swirling lust and glittering adrenaline.

He leaned down so that his upper body blanketed yours, putting one hand on the bed beside your head as his smoke-over-gravel voice whispered in your ear, "You fucking ready for me, sweetheart?"

Your eyes fluttered closed at the words, and a small grin tipped the corners of your lips as you purred, "Yes, daddy."

You felt him freeze, before he raised his head enough to catch your gaze. He catalogued your expression carefully, that sinful tongue again coming out to run across his lower lip before he tucked it into the side of his cheek and chuckled, "Daddy, huh?"

You had never brought up this particular kink before, and hadn't been sure how he would react. However, he seemed…intrigued. Arching your body beneath his so that the tips of your breasts brushed against his shirt-covered chest, you blinked up at him innocently and mewled, "Yes, please. I'll be a good girl for you, Daddy, I promise."

When he pressed his denim-covered erection down hard between your spread legs in response, you internally cheered in victory, while externally giving a soft cry of satisfaction. Reaching down, Negan hooked his fingers in the side of your panties teasingly, holding your gaze while asking, "And what, exactly, is it that you want Daddy to do to you, Little Girl?"

Gasping at his words, you felt a rush of wetness drench your panties as you clutched his shoulders tightly and whined, "I'll do whatever you want, Daddy. Please."

Giving a low groan, Negan started to slowly pull the panties down your legs. Shaking his head and giving a soft chuckle, he growled, "Oh Little Girl, you have _no_ fucking idea what plans Daddy has in store for you."

When his fingers dropped the panties and slid into the wetness between your thighs, you cried out and came hard for Daddy, just like the good little girl that you were.


	12. L is for Love

**L is for Love**

What are Negan's thoughts on love? Well, he'd say that he's never experienced it, that love is some make-believe bullshit…but that would be his defense mechanism kicking in. You see, Negan _has_ experienced love with multiple women over the course of his lifetime…but he's also lost them.

Growing up, Negan loved his mother unconditionally. She was the kind of mom who made pancakes every Saturday morning, who was always supportive and encouraging…who never made Negan feel unworthy or unloved, despite the fact that his father was an abusive asshole, whom his mother had left when Negan was just a baby. His mother never missed a soccer game, school recital, or birthday party. And she made sure to tell him that she loved him every single day…

Until Negan was 14…until she was driving home from work one evening in November and slid on a patch of unseen ice and careened into an oncoming vehicle. That was the first time that Negan realized that love could be taken away, leaving you with only memories and a cold, grey stone in the ground with a name carved upon it.

He then went to live with his grandmother. She moved slowly, and her memory wasn't the best, but she loved Negan…and he loved her back. She made sure he graduated high school and went to college, where he learned that he had an interest in studying education. His grandmother encouraged him to pursue this dream, saying that she could hardly wait until he graduated and could have his own classroom. She bragged to all her bingo buddies about what a grand teacher he was going to become.

Then, during his senior year of college, his grandmother had a stroke. The doctors said that it didn't look too good, but they let her go home. Negan commuted to his classes and spent all of his free time taking care of her…and three months later she was gone.

Negan thought about quitting school, about giving up, but he knew that neither his mother or his grandmother would be happy about that. So he finished out his last year of college, walking onto the stage at graduation…he was one of the only students who had no family section to cheer him on.

Not long after he graduated, he was offered a job at a nearby school, to be their math teacher and ping pong coach. He accepted, and was able to use his meager salary to get a small apartment of his own. It was one day while he was walking home from the school that he passed two boys, who had a box of golden retriever puppies for sale. He picked the runt of the litter, named her Max, and took her home.

He loved the hell out of that dog; she was his constant companion. Always excited to see him when he got home from work, and always quick to snuggle up beside him on the couch while he watched TV. It was because of Max that Negan met Lucille.

It was a cool, fall day, when Max was three years old, that she and Negan were taking their usual walk through the park. They came across a beautiful woman with deep brown hair and soulful eyes, who was sitting on a bench reading. Max, who was usually well-behaved and therefore didn't need a leash when in the park, ran up to the lady, despite Negan's commands to heel. The woman laughed as Max stuck her cold, wet nose under the book and begged for attention. It was then that the woman looked up and saw Negan, their eyes connecting. Negan felt a weird sensation in the pit of his stomach as he held out a hand to introduce himself; the woman fit her hand into his and said that her name was Lucille…

16 months later they were married, and Negan finally felt as though he had a family again. After years of feeling alone, he now felt loved…and he was able to love in return.

After a year of marriage, he and Lucille decided to try and expand their family. After months and months of trying, and various doctor's appointments and tests, the results came back that parenthood wasn't going to be in their future after all. Negan suggested adopting, but Lucille was too depressed about the fact that she couldn't conceive. She snapped out at Negan, telling him that adoption was a stupid idea, so he never brought it up again.

Lucille started to become more distant, and Negan feared she might leave him. So he decided that he was going to make himself love her less, just in case. That he was going to prove to himself that he didn't need her…that he would be okay if yet another woman left him. And that's when he took up a mistress. It was purely for sex, with no emotions, but Negan told himself that if he could fuck another woman, then he didn't truly love Lucille. And if he didn't truly love her, then she couldn't truly hurt him when she left. At least not the same way that his mother and grandmother had hurt him.

Six years later, Max developed renal failure. It progressed rapidly, and Negan had to make the decision one day to take her to the vet and say goodbye. He bawled the entire drive home…in fact, he hadn't cried like that since his grandmother's funeral over a decade earlier. He vowed never to get another dog, or to let himself love anyone or anything like that ever again. He was sick of loss. From now on, it would just be him and Lucille.

And then, eight years later, was when Lucille got the news…she had cancer.

Negan didn't understand why this was happening to him. Sure, he could be a real asshole, and it wasn't like he had any friends or family outside of Lucille. But he couldn't figure out just what he had done to deserve all of this. Why did all of the women who he loved end up leaving him? Was he really that unlucky…or was he really just that undeserving?

They went through with all the doctor's suggestions, and Negan stood by helplessly as Lucille went through the painful treatments. As she lost her hair and dropped weight and eventually became too weak to walk. But he still stayed by her side, stayed emotionally loyal, until the day that the apocalypse ripped him from her bedside, and upended the world for everyone.

Negan was certain that his capacity for love had died with Lucille. That once the apocalypse started, he was beyond such weak emotions. He had nothing to lose anymore, and no one to care about except himself, which was how he quickly became the leader of The Saviors and constructed the community that he named The Sanctuary. He was finally in control of both himself and the people around him, which was both freeing and lonely as hell. So, to combat that loneliness, he made his own group of wives, once again to prove to himself that he didn't need anyone…that he didn't care. To prove that, even with multiple woman in his bed, he was beyond such a weak emotion as love. And it worked, too. It worked for about two years.

But then he met you.

He tried to fight it, oh did he ever. That first day when he found you and your group out in the woods, he told himself that there was nothing special about you. That the way you boldly met his gaze and held your ground didn't intrigue the fuck out of him. That your lovely lips and even lovelier figure didn't make his dick hard in his pants. That your kind, yet strong, and independent, yet giving nature, didn't mesmerize him. Didn't cause him to find excuses to be around you, to randomly run into you and spark conversation.

But you knew. You knew that Negan, while a controlling and dominant, and even violent man, was deep down, torn and broken. But you were patient, soft and kind with him when needed, yet also firm and ready to speak your mind when he pissed you off. Eventually, you broke him down, caused him to realize that his capacity to love wasn't dead after all. He never said the words aloud, but he didn't have to. It was in the way he looked at you, the way he touched you. In time, he stopped visiting his wives as often, and eventually he sent them all away, leaving just you.

He was extra possessive at first, as if convinced that you were going to randomly disappear, like a cloud of mist. Any conversations with another man caused suspicion, and a man checking out your body led to a fit of rage. More than one individual had gotten the hot iron treatment for letting his hand linger on your shoulder a second too long, or for staring at your ass when you walked by. And you knew that words were unnecessary; that no matter how much you reassured Negan that you were his, he would have to realize this on his own, with time.

And, eventually, he _did_ realize. It took a few years, but he finally seemed to accept the fact that you weren't going anywhere. That no matter how uncertain and dangerous this new world was, you would fight to stay at his side. It was okay if he sometimes held you a little too tight or watched you a little too closely, as if those old fears were starting to resurface. You would pat his hand or stroke his face, letting him know without words that it was okay. That you were here.

He never told you about his past, but you could guess that he had experienced a lot of loss. Of course, most people had lost a lot due to the apocalypse, but you could tell that it was more than that. That Negan's loss had started much earlier, and at a much younger age. So you let him be a little possessive, and let him think that he could protect you from any and everything, because it kept him calm. And while he might never speak the words himself, you made sure to tell him how much you loved him, every chance you got.

You weren't sure if it was enough, if _you_ were enough, to mend the deep wounds of his past…but that didn't stop you from trying. And although Negan would never admit it out loud, you _were_ enough. You had shown him that not all love had to end in heartbreak. That not everyone, who he loved, would be lost. And, it was when he was laying in your arms, that he finally felt like maybe, just maybe, he really was worthy of love. Of not just having it…but keeping it as well.


	13. M is for Masturbation

**M is for Masturbation**

Since founding The Sanctuary and gathering a group of wives, it's safe to say that Negan doesn't ever have to resort to self-pleasuring, unless he wants to. But there _are_ times when the feel of his own hand is more convenient, faster, and just plain easier than visiting one of his wives and having to engage in an actual conversation.

Sometimes he just wants to get off, without any subterfuge or foreplay. Those are the times when he sits back in his desk chair or reclines on his bed, unzips his pants, and goes to town. He'll spit into his rough palm for lubrication, before wrapping his long fingers around his thick cock and starting up the perfect rhythm. It doesn't matter how many women he's slept with, or how often, none of them are able to give exactly the correct amount of speed and pressure that he can give himself. He'll reach down with his other hand and play with his balls, squeezing gently and causing his hips to rise up, fucking his own slick hand until he comes all over himself with a groan.

Sometimes he doesn't even take off his gloves, since the feel of the cool, smooth leather is extremely erotic against his hard, pulsing dick. And the sight is so naughty and taboo, watching his leather-coated hand wrap around his cock and pump up and down, that it makes him throw back his head, eyes fluttering closed as he moans out his release.

But what is Negan's biggest masturbation secret?

That he loves to clean himself up. No, not with a rag or a napkin or in the shower. Instead, he'll use his fingers to scoop up the ropes of cum that have landed on his hand and stomach, and lick them clean. And if his cum got far enough to hit the surrounding bedsheets or polished top of his desk? Then he'll clean those up, as well. He fucking loves the taste of his own salty release, and the only thing that makes it better is when he's licking it off a woman.

But some days…some days he prefers to just fuck himself, to claim his own pleasure and rocket himself over the edge, without worrying about making sure someone else comes too. Without having to worry about the aftermath, and the awkward exchange of words as they get redressed and leave. Sometimes, he just wants to be selfish…and so he is.


	14. N is for No No Zone

**N is for No No Zone**

What are Negan's hard limits, when it comes to sex? To be honest, there aren't many. Negan is pretty sexually adventurous, and is willing to try most things at least once. At first, you had tried to push him a bit, tried to see what his kinky limits were. And you had quickly found out that there weren't that many. When you had asked him to choke you during sex, he happily obliged. When you had wanted to be tied up or spanked or fucked in the ass, he didn't hesitate. In fact, there was even that time when you decided to _really_ test his limits, when he was thrusting down into your pussy and you had a tight grip on his ass. You casually shifted your hand over and down, your finger making contact with his asshole. You waited for him to jump or move away from you, or at the very least start cursing and ask what the fuck you were doing. Instead, he had thrown his head back and moaned, absolutely loving as you fingered his ass in time to his thrusts. The fact that this was something stereotypically 'taboo', but that you both were enjoying it so much, served to only ramp up your pleasure, until you both exploded in violent orgasms. In fact, that had ranked as one of your best and most intense orgasms to date, and you had actually learned a little something about your own kinks in the process. Afterwards, he had called you a "dirty fucking girl" for wanting to do that, but didn't deny that he had enjoyed it as well.

However, that doesn't meant that Negan will do _anything_ sexually. You quickly discovered that there are indeed a few key things that are hard limits for him. Things that he abso-fucking-lutely will _not_ do.

One of those hard limits is anything nonconsensual. Now, this might seem like a no-brainer, and something that all individuals should have as a hard limit, but with Negan, the lines are drawn very firm. If you say 'no' or 'stop' or anything else that communicates you aren't a willing participant, he will immediately cease whatever he is doing. It is because of this rule that you feel absolutely safe with Negan when it comes to sex. You know that no matter what new adventurous or kinky thing he wants to try, he will never push past your consensual limits. Therefore, you have actually tried some sexual things that you never would've dreamed of before meeting him. Things that you were uncertain about at first, or things that you might've secretly desired, but didn't trust anyone enough to go through with them. All of those things, you were able to try with Negan. And, because of his insistence that you be willing and consensual, as well as the fact that he always makes sure that you're enjoying whatever is happening, you were able to further explore your own sexuality in a way you hadn't previously been able to, with any partners in the past.

Another hard limit for Negan is sharing you with another man. He made it clear from the beginning that he would not tolerate any of his wives going outside their "marriage" with him. And don't even _think_ of trying to invite another man in for a threesome. Word through the grapevine is that one of his other wives tried to broach that topic, and Negan caused quite a scene, before stomping out and refusing to even talk to that wife for over a week. Negan expects that he will be enough for any woman he fucks, even if it is a bit hypocritical, seeing as he keeps a group of wives. Thankfully, his bedroom skills are fantastic enough that the idea of including another man isn't one that has ever even crossed your mind.

Lastly, Negan refuses to leave you unsatisfied. Unlike a lot of men, Negan demands that his partner be receiving pleasure in some form or another, as well as that she be an active and engaged participant. It's unusual for him to ever get a woman aroused and then leave her high and dry…unless it's all part of a larger game, in which he later intends to more than make up for his earlier negligence, in the most creative of ways. He never uses a woman just for his own pleasure, but instead makes sure that any partner is with him every step of the way, enjoying the experience to the fullest. And not just passively enjoying their pleasure, but actively moaning and shuddering and begging for more. So long as you stay loyal to only him, and let him know if you aren't willing or consenting to whatever is occurring, then it is guaranteed that Negan will do his damnedest to give you more pleasure than you ever believed possible. And really, how could you ever ask for a better deal than that?


	15. O is for Oral

**O is for Oral**

When it comes to oral sex and Negan….oh god…just thinking about it is enough to make your panties wet. Sure, Negan loves receiving oral. The feel of your mouth wrapped around his cock is never something he would refuse. But he seems to enjoy _giving_ pleasure even more than he enjoys receiving it.

There were the times he'd lay you down on the nearest flat surface, be it his bed or his desk. And then there was that one time, when he took you to the cafeteria late one night, and spread you out on one of the tables. His mouth and hands had trailed down over your body, before he settled in between your thighs and proceeded to drive you insane with pleasure. God, the things that man could do with his tongue. The way he licked your pussy and sucked your clit, sticking his tongue inside you and making you scream. The sounds he made…the way he'd growl against your wet flesh, the vibrations causing you to shudder. He could spend hours down there, pushing you up and over the edge, time and time again. He hadn't stopped until your clit was too sensitive, and you were certain that you couldn't come any more. You had tried to push him away, to close your legs, but that only served to imprint the sensation of his beard against your inner thighs, and the feel of his smile against your soaked cunt. When he was done, he pulled you off the table and watched as you pulled your panties and jeans back on. It was as the two of you were leaving the cafeteria, that he joked that you were the best meal he'd ever eaten in there, causing a flush to cross your cheeks and a shy grin to curl your lips.

There were also the times when he'd randomly push you up against a wall and drop to his knees in front of you. He'd slide your panties down your thighs, before throwing one or both of your legs over his shoulders, and just go to town. It was as if he were a starving man who had just been placed in front of a buffet with all his favorite foods. The first time that he knelt in front of you like that, you almost came just from the sight. Him on his knees, with his face between your legs, his eyes trailing up over your body and locking onto your face, so that he could watch just how much he was affecting you. It was overwhelming, seeing this king of a man kneeling at your feet, for no other reason than to give you pleasure. You'd run a hand through his hair, before tightening your grip as his ministrations caused sparks of heat to dart up your spine. You had used that grip to steer him where you wanted, to push him closer into you, to use him as an instrument for your own pleasure. And he hadn't minded. His only focus had been to make you scream his name, in order to solidify his claim over you and prove to anyone within hearing distance that you were, well and truly, his.

However, your favorite way to have Negan between your thighs was when he let you ride his face. Just the thought of it made your pussy clench. At first, you were too embarrassed, and had looked at him in shock when he suggested it. He had been laying naked on his crimson sheets, that devilish grin on his face as he offered you the ride of a lifetime. He saw your hesitation, then smirked and crooked his fingers while drawling, "Come on, doll. Take what you want." How could you possibly resist, when he put it like that? Straddling his chest, you had crawled up his body until your cunt was hovering over his face. You were tentative at first, barely lowering enough to make contact with him. However, he hadn't been about to allow that, so he wrapped his big hands around your hips and pulled you down hard, practically suffocating himself with your pussy. You had held onto the headboard for dear life as you wiggled and ground down against his face, his beard rubbing against your inner thighs and his nose bumping against your clit in the best way possible. It wasn't long before you exploded over him, closing your eyes and screaming his name, drenching him with your release.

Not only did Negan enjoy the act of going down on you, he also loved to mark you while doing so. That way, he could look the next day and see proof of his claim on you. There was hardly a day that went by where you didn't have some combination of bite marks on your legs, beard burn on your inner thighs, or finger shaped bruises on your hips. And you didn't mind, not one little bit. You proudly wore the marks of his affection, of his lust. You weren't sure if that mouth of his had been constructed by God, or by the devil himself. Either way, all it took was one lick of his tongue, and you were willing to follow him straight into heaven or hell, it didn't matter which.

And he knew it, the bastard. He knew that all it took was him to smile a certain way, or run his tongue over his bottom lip while staring at you, and your mind went immediately into the gutter. Went to thoughts of those lips and tongue against your dripping pussy. He also knew that those simple actions made you instantly wet. Wet and ready, for only him. His talented mouth had absolutely ruined you for any other man…but you wouldn't have it any other way.


	16. P is for Pain

**P is for Pain**

Obviously, Negan isn't shy about doling out pain in a nonsexual way, as shown by his hot iron punishments and the way he uses Lucille to beat the holy hell out of anyone who dares to cross him. And while he might not be quite as brutal in the bedroom, Negan isn't averse to incorporating a little pain into sex, if his partner is willing.

He loves seeing your ass all red and glowing from his palm. Or the small bruises on your flesh from his fingers and teeth. He'll even utilize Lucille from time to time, if you're willing; running the sharp barbs down your soft flesh and leaving red scratches behind. It's not necessarily giving pain that gets him off, so much as the idea that he's leaving marks that he can view later. Marks that let him, and everyone else, know that you are completely _his_.

Negan isn't the type of man who can dole out pain, yet refuse to receive it. In fact, he loves making you lose control during sex, to the point where you go wild and mark him in return. He's proudly worn scratches on his shoulders and chest, from where your nails dug in during the throes of your pleasure. And he's sported his own bite marks and hickies along his neck, which are typically covered by his scarf and so hidden from the others. But _you_ know that they're there, that underneath that well-polished façade, his body is marked as yours just as much as your body is marked as his. And on any given day, it's a guarantee that either one or both of you will carry the visible reminder of the other's passion from the night before.

The sharp bite of pain and the sweet throb of pleasure have become intertwined when the two of you are together, and sometimes it's impossible to distinguish one from the other. But there is one thing that _is_ for certain: pain has never felt so desirable, nor so satisfying, as it does when you're giving and receiving it with Negan.


	17. Q is for Quickie

**Q is for Quickie**

You walked down the hallway towards Negan's office, a tray of food in your hands. Negan had requested that one of his wives bring him dinner from the kitchen, and you had hopped up first to do so, wanting to spend some quality time with the big, powerful man who you called your post-apocalypse husband. Reaching his door, you knocked softly, and were rewarded with a gruff, "Come in!"

Balancing the tray with one hand and turning the knob with the other, you walked into Negan's office. He was sitting at his desk, ledgers and other papers spread out in front of him. Sashaying into the room, you announced, "I brought your dinner."

He only glanced up at you quickly, his gaze taking in the tray, before he waved his arm and dismissively stated, "Just put it on one of the tables." He then turned his attention back to the papers on the desk.

Annoyed by his lack of interest, you gave a small huff and walked over to set the tray on a nearby end table. Turning around, you watched as Negan rubbed fingers against his temple, as if the numbers and pages were giving him a headache. Feeling bold, you walked across the room, around the desk, and stood behind him. You saw him visibly tense at your movements, as if he were about to order you away. Reaching up, you quickly placed your hands on his shoulders and started massaging. It was difficult, what with the leather jacket and scarf in the way, but you dug in as hard as you could, trying to loosen the tightened muscles.

You smiled when Negan let out a small groan, his shoulders relaxing underneath your hands. "Fuck, sweetheart. That feels amazing."

"It would feel even better without the jacket," you lightly replied.

Giving a chuckle, Negan taunted, "Doll, are you trying to get me fucking naked?"

Giggling in return, you teased, "Maybe...is it working?"

"Guess we'll fucking find out," Negan replied, before unzipping the front of his jacket and pulling it off his broad shoulders. He then unwrapped the red scarf from around his neck, which was surprisingly erotic to watch. The fabric revealed his muscular, tanned throat, and you could see the muscles in his biceps bunching through the thin, white t-shirt as he tossed the scarf across the room, where it landed on a nearby couch.

Placing your hands on his now more-accessible shoulders, you started massaging again, instantly causing another low moan from Negan's throat. After a couple minutes, he glanced over at the clock on the wall, giving a low curse. "Much as I'm enjoying this, I have a fucking meeting with my Saviors in ten fucking minutes."

"What a shame," you pouted, continuing to massage his warm, muscular flesh. "I was hoping that we could have a bit of fun, instead."

Standing up from the chair, Negan turned around and loomed over you, his eyes raking up and down your form. You looked at him as well, noticing the obvious bulge in the front of his pants. Apparently, he wasn't as immune to your presence as he tried to pretend. Biting your lower lip suggestively, you cooed, "Ten minutes, you say? Think that's enough time."

Smirking, Negan knew what you were getting at, but he instead played dumb and asked, "Enough time for what?"

"For you to make both of us come?" you replied, blinking innocently.

Negan's lips parted, showcasing his straight, white teeth as he gave a laugh. Turning, he grabbed the ledgers and papers, stacking them into a messy pile before tossing them onto the floor. His expression then got serious as he turned to you and ordered, "Take off your pants and shirt. Now."

Shivering in anticipation, you unbuttoned the shorts and pulled them quickly down your legs before lifting the t-shirt over your head. Since you had foregone a bra, this left you only in a pair of light pink, see-through panties. Negan had taken off his own shirt, leaving his muscular chest bare, save for his tattoos and the delicious frosting of salt-and-pepper chest hair. He looked down at you appreciatively before demanding, "Get on the fucking desk."

A jolt of arousal went up your spine at his deep, gravelly voice telling you what to do. Obeying instantly, you turned and hopped up on the desk, legs pressing together in excitement as you waited expectantly for your next order.

He traced one gloved finger down the top of your left thigh, causing goosebumps in its wake. He then reached down and started unbuckling his pants, before giving you the command, "Spread those pretty thighs, princess."

"Yes, sir," you whispered, causing his eyes to heat with lust.

Once again obeying, you parted your legs wide, knowing that he could obviously see the wet spot on the crotch of your thin panties. He growled as he took in the view, pushing his pants and briefs down to his ankles and exposing his already hard cock. Without further ado, he stepped up in between your thighs, used one finger to pull the crotch of your panties to the side, and lined his cock up with your entrance. Gazing up at him, you saw that he was glancing over at the clock again. "We've got seven minutes, sweetheart. So I hope that little pussy is prepared to come fast."

With that, he pushed inside you in one long, hard thrust. Crying out at the pleasurable intrusion, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his hips as he started up a quick and steady pace. His gloved hand wrapped lightly around your throat for a few thrusts, causing you to moan, before it trailed down over your chest. He pushed gently at your upper body, growling, "Lay back on the desk. Fuck, yes, just like that."

Spread out on the desk with your back against the polished dark wood, you looked up at Negan. The combined sight of the muscles in his bare chest flexing and his dick thrusting in and out of your body, which was still wearing the panties, served to heighten your arousal. When he ran his hand down over your stomach and through your pubic hair, you whined and lifted your hips. His gloved fingers expertly found your clit and set up a rhythm that he knew was guaranteed to make you shatter.

Tightening your thighs around his hips, you writhed on the desk, torso twisting and head tossing from side to side, as you wordlessly begged him to send you over the edge. He leaned down on the desk, his free hand supporting his torso as he hovered over you, his form blocking out everything else. Your gaze collided with his and held, while his cock and fingers continued to drive you up to the precipice of pleasure.

"Come on, princess. Come for me. Right now!" he growled.

Just like with every other command, you obeyed instantly. You let out a cry as your body reached its peak, seeing stars behind your closed lids and arching against the desk with pleasure. You heard Negan cry out, as well, as your clenching walls caused him to follow you over the edge. He shuddered and gasped above you, while you watched in awe as he came.

You barely had time to pull yourself together when Negan took a step back, pulling his softening dick out of you and reaching down to pull his pants back up. "Much as I'd love to stick around, I've got three fucking minutes, and I don't like to be late. Sends the wrong fucking message."

Nodding, you slid off the desk, tugging the crotch of your panties back into place and reaching for your jeans and t-shirt, while Negan grabbed his jacket and scarf. You tried unsuccessfully not to get distracted by the sight of him wrapping the soft fabric back around his neck before pulling on the jacket. How could he make the act of putting clothes _on_ look so erotic?

When you were both decent, Negan grabbed Lucille and all but rushed you out of the room and into the hall. Giving your ass a playful smack, he turned to shut and lock the door. Remembering why you had come here in the first place, you giggled, "Sorry you didn't have time to eat dinner."

Smirking, Negan replied, "I already ate earlier."

Confused, you furrowed your brows and looked at him questioningly. "Then why did you ask for someone to bring you a tray?"

Hoisting Lucille up over his shoulder, Negan teased, "Because I knew that you'd be the first fucking one to rush and get me one. And I hoped that you would stick around, so that I could give you quick fuck."

You blushed at how accurate Negan's assumptions of you had been. Giving him a shy smile, you replied, "Well, you were right. Feel free to call me for a pre-meeting quickie at any time."

"Will do, doll. Will do," he chuckled, before walking away from you and down the hall. He twirled Lucille on his shoulder and whistled a tune as he went.


	18. R is for Roleplay

***Author's Note:For this one, I allowed a lucky follower on tumblr to pick what type of roleplay AU scenario they wanted me to write. They chose teacher Negan and a student. So keep in mind, this is AU! Although we do know that Negan was a teacher pre-apocalypse, so maybe it's not totally AU ;)***

 **R is for Roleplay**

You walked through the halls of your old high school, a smile on your face as you took in the rows of lockers and classrooms, the last students dwindling out the doors to start their summer vacations. Today was the last day of classes, and in a few days there would be graduation. It had been eight years since you had walked these halls as a student, but not much had changed. Well, except for the fact that you were definitely older and wiser…and bolder.

It was this boldness that caused you to turn a corner and head down a particular hallway, your heels clacking on the tiles and your short, black skirt swinging back and forth as you walked. A white, button-down shirt completed the outfit, and your hair flowed freely around your shoulders. You had wanted to project a "sexy schoolgirl" persona, without it being overly obvious to anyone else you walked past. Thankfully, the halls were empty, but when you arrived at your destination, you found the door cracked open and the lights on.

There he was, sitting at his desk and grading finals, the whiteboard behind him full of numbers and equations. He had on thick, black-framed glasses that gave him a sexy, scholarly look. His once-dark beard was now sprinkled with salt, and you could see that the lines were a little longer and deeper around his eyes. But he was still sexy as hell, maybe even more so now. His hazel eyes lifted from the papers in front of him, and you saw surprise widen them when he saw you standing there. Brows furrowing in confusion, it took a few seconds before recognition lit up his face.

"Well, I'll be damned," he drawled, standing up from the desk. He was tall and muscular, just how you remembered. And his deep, raspy voice was just as arousing now as it had been eight years ago. You felt a shiver go down your spine when his eyes scanned quickly up and down your body as you stepped further into the room.

"Hey, Mr. Negan," you said with a tentative smile.

He came around the desk and leaned against its front, reaching up to pull the glasses slowly off his face and lay them on the desk. You stopped a few feet in front of him, hand on cocked hip and legs crossed in a demure yet, you hoped, sexy pose. He asked how you had been, and you satisfied his curiosity by chatting with him about college, what you had studied, and what you were doing now. You discussed how you were back in town to watch your sister graduate high school, and thought that you would stop by tonight, to see if your favorite teacher was still here.

He smirked at this, taunting, "Oh, come on. Favorite teacher? As I clearly recall, math was _not_ your best subject."

A grin curled your lips at the fact that he remembered just how much you had struggled through his class. Licking your lips slowly, you teased, "Well, it's not because I wasn't any good at it. More so that I was always getting…distracted."

"Distracted?" he questioned, arching a brow in curiosity. "By what?"

Twirling a strand of hair around your finger, you looked at him innocently, and said, "Why, by you, of course."

He stared at you silently for a few seconds before saying, "Me? How the fuck was I a distraction?"

You almost laughed at his response. Even when you had been a student, he had always had a filthy mouth. It didn't matter how many parents called in complaining, Mr. Negan didn't give a fuckity fuck. He had made it clear that if his students couldn't handle his foul language, then that was too fucking bad. You had loved it then, and you loved it even more now.

Deciding to lay your cards out on the table, you took a deep breath and honestly replied, "You were a distraction, because I spent more class time fantasizing about you, than I did listening to your lectures."

He stared at you in stunned silence, and you gave a mental fist pump that you had been able to well and truly shock him with your response. He had always been such a cocky mother fucker, and while you had played the role of the quiet, good little girl when you were his student, it was time to let your naughty side shine. Worst case scenario: he told you to get the fuck out of his classroom, you stayed in town for graduation, and then were gone again in a few days, no big loss. But the best case scenario…well, it was obvious what that would be. It was a long shot that he would reciprocate your feelings, but 'teenage you' would never let you live it down if you didn't at least attempt to make this almost decade-long fantasy a reality.

Mr. Negan cleared his throat and ran his tongue over the seam of his lips. You watched, mesmerized, wanting nothing more than to feel that tongue on your flesh.

"And what, exactly, did you fantasize about?"

You were almost afraid you had imagined his response, that your over eager brain had constructed the words as a hallucination. But one glance at the smirk on his lips and the heated intensity of his gaze confirmed that he had actually spoken the words out loud. That the best case scenario might actually happen after all.

"Well," you purred, walking up closer to him, so that your skirt brushed against his leg when you walked by. "I did fantasize about this desk quite often. Of you bending me over it and giving me a good spanking. Or spreading me out on top of it, while you sat in your chair and ate my pussy."

You trailed your fingers over the wood as you walked around the side of the desk, Mr. Negan's eyes following your every move. "But, I think my favorite fantasy, was this." You stopped in front of the whiteboard and tapped a nail against it. "Yea…imagining you pushing me up against this, flipping up my skirt, and fucking my brains out was definitely what got me off the fastest."

You were beyond shocked and proud of yourself for being so blunt and honest. Your inner teenager was giving a round of applause and nodding in awe. When Mr. Negan pushed off the desk and started walking to the door, you felt your stomach drop at the notion that he might be leaving. Perhaps you had been _too_ blunt…

But then you watched as he closed the classroom door, drew the blind over the small window, and turned the lock. Arousal flooded between your thighs when he turned around, his gaze burning a trail from the top of your head down to your toes, before trailing back up again. He prowled across the classroom towards you, as if a panther stalking its prey, and you almost forgot how to breath.

He stopped right in front of you, looming over you in a reminder of how much taller and broader he was…how much stronger. The thought made your thighs clench. He made sure to enunciate his words clearly when he asked, "Just to clarify, are you fucking sure that this is what you fucking want?"

You gave a whimper and a nod before gasping, "God, yes!"

With that, he grabbed your arm and spun you away from him with a growl. He pushed you roughly up against the whiteboard, the smooth surface cool against your cheek, and the metal bar that held the markers and erasers digging deliciously into your stomach. You let out a shaky moan when you felt a big, rough hand trail up the back of your thigh, lifting the edge of your skirt to expose your bare ass.

"Well well well, what the fuck do we have here," he purred, running his hand over the soft globes. "No panties? What a naughty girl."

Trying your best to keep up with him, to meet his sass with your own, you hoarsely replied, "Are you going to fuck me, or are you going to stare at my ass all evening?"

You let out a sharp cry when his palm came down, fast and hard, on your right cheek, the slap echoing around the empty space. "There will be no back talking in my fucking classroom, is that understood? Otherwise I will pull out my ruler and show you how naughty girls get punished."

You almost collapsed to the ground in a puddle of drool at his words. God, his voice growling those words was almost more than you could handle. No one should have a voice that panty-droppingly sexy, let alone have it attached to those eyes and that mouth.

"Now, are you going to be a good little girl for me, or do I have to punish you?"

You moaned at the images his words conjured. While part of you was intrigued with what kind of punishment he might have in mind, a larger part of you didn't want to play any games. Your pussy had been begging for his cock for almost a decade, and you were so close to fulfilling that goal that you didn't want to wait one minute more than necessary. Wiggling your ass back into his crotch, moaning at the feel of his hard dick through his pants, you begged, "Please, sir. I promise to be good. Please, fuck me."

He chuckled in response, causing goosebumps to raise on your flesh. You heard the sound of a zipper, but when you tried to turn around and look, he pushed you harder into the whiteboard, one hand coming up to grab a fistful of your hair and pin your face to the smooth surface. He inserted a foot between your legs and kicked your feet further apart, spreading you out in front of him. You gave a hoarse cry when rough fingers slid between your legs from behind, rubbing along your slit as he growled, "Fucking hell, you're already soaked."

Trying to arch your back, but plastered between the whiteboard and his hard body, you gasped, "All for you…it's all for you."

He gave a strangled moan, and his fingers disappeared, to be replaced a second later with his cock. You mouth dropped open as he breached your opening. Jesus fuck, but he was big! You whined and tried to spread your legs further as he stretched your walls to their limit. Never in your life had you taken in a cock this big, and when he finally buried himself to the hilt, you felt so full, so stuffed, that you didn't know where you ended and he began.

"Christ, you're so fucking tight, sweetheart," he groaned, leaning forward and nipping at the back of your neck with his teeth.

You only moaned in response, unable to form a coherent sentence if your life depended on it. All that currently mattered in this world was Mr. Negan's cock in your cunt and his voice in your ear. When he slid his other hand around to grab your breast through the thin shirt, you shivered and felt your walls contract on his cock.

And then he started moving.

He didn't start out slow and gentle, or warm you up to a faster rhythm. He immediately set up a quick and brutal pace…and you loved it. You cried out with every thrust, his cock slamming into you and pushing you up harder against the whiteboard. The metal bar at your stomach pressed into your flesh in a way that would've been painful, if you had enough brain cells to care.

Between the feel of Mr. Negan's big, hard dick driving into you, and the grunts and growls that were a constant litany from his lips, it wasn't long before you felt your orgasm start to build. It coiled inside you tighter and tighter, the pressure becoming almost unbearable. And yet, at the same time, you never wanted it to end. When the hand in your hair tightened sharply and the hand at your breast lowered to your clit, you whimpered at the mixed sensations of pain and pleasure. His masterful fingers started to work your clit at an expert pace, and you were pretty sure you were whining and panting and begging him incoherently at this point, but all that mattered was that he not stop. When he tightened the hand in your hair yet again, jerking your head back and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder with a growl, you went up and over the edge. A scream left your lips as your pussy contracted around his cock, shudders wracking your body as the orgasm rolled through you. If it wasn't for Mr. Negan's hands and cock holding you up, you would've slid to the floor in a shuddering, heaving pile.

Right when you were coming down off your orgasm, you felt him reach his own peak. He groaned and gave a few quick, jerky thrusts into you as the pleasure overtook him. You gasped at the feel of his hot cum spurting deep inside you, his hoarse moans in your ear. The two of you stayed locked like that for a few long moments, his dick twitching inside you while you both tried to catch your breath and slow your heart-rates down to a normal pace.

When he slowly pulled out his cock, you gave an involuntary whimper of disappointment. He backed up a step, finally allowing you to turn around. You watched as he tucked his dick back into his pants and pulled up the zipper. Your skirt had automatically fallen back into place, and just like that, the two of you were once again presentable. Well, presentable if no one noticed the way your hair was tangled around your face, the red bite mark on your shoulder, or the streak of cum that was slowly rolling down your inner thigh.

Taking a deep breath and reaching up to run his fingers slowly over his beard, he looked you up and down slowly, before his eyes captured yours and a slow smirk crossed his lips.

"Well, was it as good as you fucking imagined?"

Mirroring his smirk with one of your own, you gave a light laugh and forced shaky legs into motion. It wasn't until you made it to the door, unlocked it, and were about to leave the room, that you turned around and bit your lip seductively before purring, "It was even better than I imagined. In fact, I think that's the best god damn lesson you ever did give me."

With that, you walked out of the classroom and started down the hall. When you made it home, your sister asked why you had red streaks on your cheek. Confused, you looked in the mirror, then burst into a fit of laughter. It was from one of the math equations written on Mr. Negan's whiteboard; the marker had smeared onto your cheek when you were pressed against it. He had to have seen it, but the cheeky bastard hadn't said a word, instead letting you drive home with his physical mark on your shoulder and his educational mark on your face.

But that was okay, because you knew he would be at graduation in a few days, and that between now and then he would be at the school, grading papers. That gave you plenty of time to pay him another visit, to let him teach you another lesson. And next time, you'd make sure that _he_ was the one who was left marked by _you_.


	19. S is for Spanking

**S is for Spanking**

You walked over to where Negan sat on the edge of the bed, patting his knee. His face was stern, but his eyes twinkled with an underlying mirth. He knew that you were going to enjoy this just as much as he was.

Laying your naked body face-down and sideways across his lap, you shivered at the feel of Negan's rough jeans against your breasts and stomach, and the cool slide of his leather jacket against your side.

"Now, I want you to fucking count each one. You miss a number, and we start the whole fucking way back at zero. Understood?"

You squeezed your thighs together in excitement, nodding and saying, "Yes, sir."

You heard the smirk in his voice when he replied, "Good girl."

There were a few long seconds of silence, in which Negan built the anticipation. Right when you were wondering just what he was waiting for…it happened.

His bare hand came down, swift and hard, on your left ass cheek, the sharp pain causing you to bite your lip to keep from crying out. "One," you said, trying hard as possible to maintain a calm and poised tone.

Negan chuckled above you. "Trying to play tough tonight, doll? We'll see how fucking long that lasts."

And with that, his palm came down again, on the same exact spot. _Smack_! You muffled a moan with your fist as the sting faded into a dull burn that caused arousal to flood your pussy. "Two," you stated, a slight tremor entering your voice.

He gave you no time to recover before his hand came down again, this time on your right ass cheek. You were unable to contain the soft cry of pleasure and pain, rasping out a hoarse, "Three."

"That's it, princess. Let me fucking hear you," he growled.

 _Smack! Smack! Smack!_

The next three spanks came quickly, one right after the other, causing you to cry out louder with each one. You could barely speak from the sensations, but were able to blubber out a weak count of four, five, and six.

Your pussy was throbbing in time with your sore ass, and you realized that it was quite possible you were going to come, just from Negan's hand spanking your ass. In fact, there was a good chance that he already had a wet spot on his jeans from where your cunt was pressed into him.

His fingers massaged your ass roughly, causing a groan to fall from your lips. He then lifted his hand, and you barely had time to process before he brought it back down, this time in the crease between your ass and thigh.

"Fuck," you cried hoarsely, your body twitching on his lap.

Negan froze, his gruff voice commanding, "The fuck did you just say?"

"Seven!" you choked out. "I'm sorry, Sir. I meant to say seven!"

Negan contemplated you silently before responding, "That's what I fucking thought you said."

You gave a small sigh of relief that he wasn't starting over, but that relief was short-lived when he brought his hand down again, this time even harder than before, as if he was putting his whole arm into it. You yelled out at the sensation, more pain than pleasure. However, your pussy didn't seem to notice, as it throbbed more insistently, begging for release. "Eight," you whimpered softly.

You waited for the next smack, expecting the last two to be just as hard. What you weren't expecting was for Negan to demand, "Spread your fucking legs."

It took a few seconds for his order to process in your brain. And when it did, you shuddered at the implications, before slowly separating your shaky thighs, the insides of which were now sticky and wet with your arousal.

When you had parted them wide enough for his liking, Negan ran a hand down the crack of your ass, his fingers dipping down into your pussy, making you tremble and mewl with pleasure.

"Christ, you're fucking soaked. You fucking love this, don't you? You naughty fucking little girl."

All you could do was moan, since coherent speech was beyond you at that point.

Removing his fingers, now coated with your arousal, Negan lifted his hand up and brought it back down…this time smacking directly on your pussy.

You gave a sharp cry and jerked in his lap, an explosion of pain and pleasure rocketing through your body at the hit. Your nails dug into his denim-covered thighs as you panted with the effort needed to not come. It took all of your remaining functional brain cells to whisper, "Nine."

You knew what was coming next. Knew that with his next smack, he was going to hurtle you up and over the edge. And he knew it too. His voice was deep and raspy with lust as he growled, "You fucking ready for the last one, princess?"

"Yes, sir! Please!" you begged, trying to spread your legs even further without losing your balance and falling off his lap.

He left you like that for what felt like forever, making you writhe and whimper as you waited for that last smack. Nothing else mattered in the entire world except Negan's hand, and that it connected with your drenched pussy.

 _Smack!_

You let out a scream as your vision went white and your body shattered. The waves of pleasure rolling through you were so strong that they were painful, and coupled with your sore and throbbing ass and pulsing pussy, the sensations were overwhelming. The mixture of pleasure and pain took you under and utterly destroyed you, as you shuddered and shook and came all over Negan's lap.

When you had calmed down a bit, Negan fisted a hand in your hair and jerked your head back, causing you to stare up and back at him as he leaned over you.

"Don't you think you fucking forgot to say something, doll?"

It took a few seconds for his words to penetrate the haze of pleasure you were still floating in, but when they did, you felt a dreamy smile curl your lips.

"Ten," you purred, turning onto your back and stretching seductively in his lap, gasping when your sore ass rubbed against his rough jeans.

"Good girl," was his pleased reply.


	20. T is for Turn Ons

**T is for Turn Ons**

Negan is a very sexual man, and it doesn't usually take too much to get him in the mood for some down and dirty fucking. Whether you're dressed up in fancy lingerie or wearing a sweaty t-shirt and jeans, Negan still finds you sexy. The first time you spent the night in his bed, you woke up in a panic, not wanting him to see your tangled hair or smell your morning breath. You tried to sneak out of the bed, but Negan was having none of that. He reeled you back in, chuckling when you hid your face behind nervous hands, and joking, "The fuck you hiding for, doll?" He then proceeded to show you just how little he cared about your imperfections, his hard cock showcasing proof that he didn't need you poised and polished to want to fuck you.

Sometimes all you have to do is walk past him, and you can tell by the darkening of his eyes that he's turned on. The sway of your hips and curve of your ass walking away from him are like a magnet, drawing him after you, so that he can shove you into the nearest empty room and get his hands on your curves. He even told you once that the sound of your laugh made his dick hard, causing you to blush and act embarrassed, although you secretly loved that something so simple, something so joyful, was an aphrodisiac to him.

Over the months, you had tried to pinpoint what Negan's biggest turn ons were. To figure out what moves or phrases or clothing would spark his desire the fastest. But you had found that it wasn't necessarily anything specific that you did or said. And it wasn't a certain body part or a particular type of clothing. No, surprisingly enough, the thing that turned Negan on the most, was plain and simply, _you_.


	21. U is for Underwear

**U is for Underwear**

Does Negan have a lingerie preference?

Negan is a man who definitely enjoys fancy lingerie. He makes sure that all of his wives, including you, are always well-stocked with various bras, panties, teddies, garters, and stockings. You have no clue how he manages to find all of these items; there must be some abandoned Victoria's Secret that he visits on his supply runs. And, if you were being honest, you enjoyed these items, as well. In a world where there were few luxuries, being able to wear sexy lingerie was something you had never thought would happen again.

You had arrived at the compound a few months ago wearing a ripped, white bra and a matching pair of white granny panties. Needless to say, the apocalypse had not hit you on a good day, and the walkers had decided to overrun your city when you had badly needed to do laundry, and had been wearing your last-resort underwear. You know, the kind that is only worn when you're desperate, and you pray that no one will ever know you're wearing it? Yea...that's what you had been stuck in when the god damn apocalypse hit.

However, once arriving at the compound, and agreeing to become one of Negan's wives, you had been able to toss those old, dirty garments away, and replace them with lingerie that was more decadent and sexy than most of your pre-apocalypse wardrobe. And there wasn't a piece of it that Negan didn't enjoy seeing on you. However, much as Negan loved seeing his wives in sexy undergarments, he loved even more to take it off. It had become a favorite past-time of yours to surprise him when he brought you new lingerie from a run. You would put on the sexy pieces, cover them with your turquoise robe, and sneak down the hall to his office. It had gotten to the point where now, as soon as Negan saw you standing there in his doorway wearing the robe, he would put down whatever he had been working on and focus his full attention on you. A smirk would pull at his lips as he drawled, "Well, now. Let's see what my fucking present is tonight."

And you did indeed feel like a present, when showcasing new lingerie for Negan. An incredibly sexy present, complete with lacy and decadent packaging. After shedding the robe, you would stand there in front of him, letting him look his fill. Sometimes you would strut around the room, giving a twirl or leaning seductively against the front of his desk, giving a mini performance and showing Negan his prize. His burning hazel eyes would take in all the details, and by the time he stood up from the chair and started to round the desk, you felt as if smoke should be coming off the top of your head, you were so singed by his gaze.

Some nights, he would take his time unwrapping his gift, slowly unhooking and pulling the pieces off your body, exposing your flesh an inch at a time. There was the one night, when he had knelt down and used his teeth to grab onto one side of your black, see-through thong. He had pulled the arousal-drenched thong slowly down your legs with his mouth, before discarding it on the floor and diving face-first into your wet pussy.

Other nights, he was quick and rough, wasting no time with tearing the lingerie off your body. There had been more than one pair of ripped panties or torn lace, not to mention the number of teddies he had annihilated in his frenzy to get you bare and spread before him. And it always turned you on so much when he did that, when he lost control and refused to let the flimsy barriers stand in his way any longer. Sometimes he didn't even get the pieces off the whole way, the bra still hooked but pushed up over your tits so that he could devour them with his hands and mouth. Or sometimes he would just pull the crotch of the panties to the side and plunge his cock right in. You would wrap your stocking-clad thighs around his hips, digging the heels of your stilettos into his ass in encouragement, while you cried out in pleasure.

You always felt excitement curl in your stomach when receiving the news that Negan had returned from a supply run, since it meant that he had brought you some new lingerie. You also knew that it meant you would be wrapping yourself up, nice and pretty for him, in order to provide the kind of homecoming that he would never forget. You would stand in front of your bedroom mirror, admiring your figure, clad in the new, decadent fabrics. With a devious grin on your face, you would grab your robe, pulling the soft fabric around your body, before strutting down the hall to Negan's rooms. Your soft knock would be followed by his gruff voice telling you to enter. And it was then, as you opened the door, that you knew...the show was about to begin.


	22. V is for Volume

**V is for Volume**

Does Negan make sounds during sex? Oh, yes, does he ever! Negan is a loud, expressive man in general, so it should come as no surprise that those traits also extend to fucking. For a man who demands control and dominance in all situations, he sure doesn't care about controlling his verbal reactions during sex.

Of course, there are the more common sounds he makes. The groans and moans he releases when you stroke hands over his body, or grind up against him eagerly. The way he'll snarl and growl like a wild animal when you're sucking his cock, curling up his lips and gritting his teeth with pleasure. There's the quiet grunts he lets out with each deep thrust inside you, when he's close to blowing his load. And then there's that other noise, the one that makes your pussy clench just thinking about it. It's the one where Negan lets out a loud, hoarse shout of release. It's rare to get Negan into such a spiral of pleasure as to elicit this sound, but when you do, it feels as though you've won the sexual lottery.

But, you've learned over the months that there is a less common sound that you can elicit from Negan, if you play your cards just right.

That noise is his laugh...which might not sound like a very sexy noise to some, but with Negan, this is more of a turn on than one might think. Although Negan enjoys laughing in general, it's usually in a more sadistic way, such as while he's doling out a punishment or delivering blows from Lucille. And sometimes he'll laugh in response to his own sarcastic jokes, bellowing loudly with his head thrown back, as if an actor in a dramatic play. These laughs are more energetic and have a purpose; they serve to both intimidate and throw others off balance. But those aren't the type of laugh you're talking about. There's another laugh, one that's more soft and intimate, that Negan utters when the two of you are alone. Negan is a serious man when it comes to sex, and loves to focus on driving you insane with pleasure. So when you're able to finally make him relax, turning the sexual mood from serious and intense into light and playful, _that's_ when this laugh comes out. It's a sound that signifies that his tough exterior has dropped, and he's finally allowing himself to go with the flow and have a good time, without worrying about how he appears to others.

For example, there was that one time when you snuck into the office connected to his bedroom, while he was out showering. You had noticed that his leather jacket was draped over his desk chair…and inspiration struck. Stripping down, so that you were wearing nothing but the jacket, you waited for him to return. You leaned against the front of his desk seductively, the front of the jacket zipped up just enough to keep your nipples from showing, while the end reached down to barely cover your ass. Negan had opened the door in just a towel, frozen in wide-eyed surprise at the vision in front of him. After tracing his eyes up and down your form, he had moved towards you with a primal, driven look on his face. However, you had turned and darted away from him, putting the desk between the two of you, a playful smirk on your face. He released one of his low growls, causing shivers to dart up your spine, before he lunged around the desk. The game of cat and mouse didn't last long, but he still gave a gleeful cry of victory when he was finally able to snag an arm around your waist and pull you close, his towel falling to the floor in the process and revealing his beautiful erection. And then it happened. He let out _that_ laugh, the one that was full of pure happiness and glee, the one that crinkled his eyes and made him look like a joyful, young boy…and made you giggle in return. You had squealed when he then picked you up and threw you over his shoulder before walking across the office and into the bedroom, where he proceeded to thoroughly enjoy his prized catch.

Yes, Negan likes to make a lot of different noises during sex, and he has no qualms about volume or frequency. But when you can make him drop his emotional walls and genuinely laugh during sex…well, to you, _that's_ the sexiest noise he can make.


	23. W is for Wet & Wild

**W is for Wet & Wild**

The warm water streams over your bare back, steam rising around you like a cloud. Large, rough hands, slick with moisture, grasp your hips. The tickling sensation of Negan's beard runs down over your shoulder blade as he kisses along your spine. You brace hands against the wall in front of you, trying to keep upright despite the overwhelming pleasure of Negan's bare body against your own.

Negan's cock enters you from behind in a long, slow thrust, driving you up against the shower wall. Gasping, you push your hips back into him, reaching an arm over your shoulder and grasping a handful of his wet, dark hair; using that grip to pull his face closer. His lips capture yours, neck twisting as you try to take his tongue deep into your mouth, the same way you're taking his cock. Your lips and tongue dance with his own, before he pulls back, nips your shoulder, and his hips start up a rhythm that is both heavenly and torturous at the same time.

You barely notice when he reaches up and starts fiddling with the showerhead, instead focused on the feel of his dick sinking deep inside your body. Your eyes close, lips moaning out his name like a plea, as he fucks you into the slippery shower wall. However, you _do_ notice when, seconds later, the stream of warm water moves down over your body, to center directly on your clit.

Crying out in shock, your eyes fly open and look down to see Negan's large, tan hand holding the detachable showerhead. He has the flow of water aimed so that it is hitting the most sensitive spot on your entire body. Gasping and whining out in pleasure, bracing your hands solidly against the slick tiles, you throw back your head and stare sightlessly up at the ceiling as the sensations become almost overwhelming.

Negan continues to thrust inside you, one hand steadily holding the showerhead, while his other hand wraps around your stomach to help stabilize you. His growls float through the steamy mist and are like magic to your ears. He leans down and pulls your earlobe between his teeth, biting gently while whispering, "That's it, doll. Fucking come apart for me."

And you do. Your body twists and shudders, and you shout Negan's name while pleasure rolls through your body, absolutely shattering you. Negan is quick to follow, groaning out your own name as he follows you over the edge and into nirvana.

The sensations of the showerhead on your clit start to become too much, and you reach down to wrap shaky fingers around Negan's wrist, pulling his arm away. He slowly trails the water up over your body, causing you to twist against him, before he replaces the showerhead above you. The hand around your stomach reaches down to cut off the water, leaving only the sounds of your heavy breathing, and the feel of Negan's large, hard body against your back, as the steam in the stall dances lightly across your warm flesh.

He chuckles in your ear, causing shivers to go down your spine, before his sinful voice drawls, "You were right, doll. This _is_ a great fucking way to conserve water."

Laughing in response, you turn in his arms, lift up on tiptoe, and kiss that devilish smirk. Negan reaches outside the stall for a towel, wrapping it around your torso before he picks you up and carries you out of the bathroom. Despite just showering, it wasn't long before you and Negan got dirty and sweaty all over again. But you didn't mind, not if it meant climbing back in that stall with him again later, and getting clean in the best way possible.


	24. X is for X-Rated

***Authors Note: This was a wild card letter, and so the lucky tumblr follower who claimed it got to pick what smutty prompt they wanted. They asked for "Doctor Negan and Slutty Patient with medical instruments"

This is what I came up with...it's gyno Negan and his patient, so if anything about that might be triggering or uncomfortable for you, please don't read it!***

 **X is for X-Rated**

You sat on the edge of the examination table, your clothes in a pile on the chair across the room. Hands held the edges of the scratchy medical gown closed over your chest, as you waited a little impatiently for the doctor to enter and get this over with so that you could get a clean bill of health, another year of birth control, and mark this appointment off your to-do list.

At first, you had been upset when you called to make the appointment and learned that your usual gynecologist had left this hospital, but the receptionist had assured you that her replacement was well-qualified and liked by his patients. You had been hesitant about having a male gynecologist, but decided that it would be too much hassle to search around for someone else. So, you had made the appointment for your yearly pap smear and exam, and now, three weeks later, here you were.

Right as you were starting to get annoyed with waiting, footsteps stopped outside the door and a soft knock sounded before it opened.

 _Holy Fucking Shit!_

That was your first thought when the beautiful specimen of a man stepped into the room. He was tall, with broad shoulders and long limbs. His dark hair was pushed back off his face, he was sporting a neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard, and when his gaze met yours, you saw that his eyes were a brilliant shade of hazel. His perfectly shaped lips curved upwards into a grin before parting to showcase straight, white teeth. You were unable to breathe as you stared at him in awe. The man even had god damn dimples, for crying out loud!

"Hello there. I'm Dr. Negan," he greeted, his voice deep and rich like melted chocolate. You stared up at him for a few long seconds before your brain finally took in the white coat he was wearing and the chart he was holding in one hand. Your chart.

 _Fucking hell, HE'S the new gyno?!_

You took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm yourself while Dr. Negan walked over to the desk beside the examination table and sat down on the low stool, opening your chart and looking through it. He asked you a couple questions about your sexual history, and it was all you could do not to blush while answering. You stared at his profile while he made notes in the chart, taking in his features and the little wrinkles around his eyes and mouth that signaled he was probably somewhere in his 40s. This wasn't helpful, since you had a secret weakness for hot older men, and Dr. Negan was one of the sexiest men you had ever seen, regardless of age. When he stood up and asked you to lay back on the table for the breast exam, you briefly considered bolting off the table and making a run for it. You quickly scolded yourself for such a thought, convinced that you should have more control over your hormones than this.

This idea was proven false when he parted the front of your gown and exposed your breasts. Your nipples hardened instantly, and you told yourself it was due to the chilly air in the room, and had nothing to do with the outrageously attractive man standing beside you. Maybe if you just focused on the ceiling tiles and thought about something else you could get through this and…

You jerked when his warm, latex-covered hand touched your left breast. He started rubbing in a circular pattern around your breast, starting at the outside and moving in ever smaller circles towards your nipple. When the side of his hand brushed over the sensitive nub, you couldn't help the small gasp of surprise as a jolt of pleasure shot through you. Glancing over at Dr. Negan, hoping that he hadn't noticed, you saw that he was looking at your face with brows furrowed, as if deep in thought. It only lasted a second before he jerked his gaze away and walked around to the other side of the examination table so that he could repeat the procedure on your right breast.

You should've been more prepared this time, but instead you felt a rush of wetness between your thighs when his fingers started the circular motions again. This time, when his hand brushed your nipple, you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from making a sound. When his hand brushed over it again, you jerked in surprise, glancing up at him to see his eyes once again fixed on yours. This time, he let a tiny smirk curl the left side of his lips, and you felt a blush heat your cheeks in response.

He knew.

Walking to the foot of the table, he pulled out the metal stirrups and crooked two of his fingers in a "come hither" motion while commanding, "Slide your hips down to the edge of the table."

You started to awkwardly slide downwards, the gown bunching up under you and making it a bit difficult. Suddenly, you felt strong hands grasp onto your hips and pull downwards, positioning you just how he wanted. You tried not to focus on how large and masterful his hands felt, their heat burning through the thin gown and feeling like a brand on your flesh. Your legs were trembling slightly as you lifted them and placed your feet in the stirrups. You gulped when Dr. Negan rolled the stool over from the desk, and sat down right in front of your spread thighs.

 _Dear god, please don't let him notice how wet I am already._

You shivered when he lifted the gown up over your hips, exposing you to his gaze. He looked up at you, his eyes burning into yours as he purred, "Relax, sweetheart."

You saw him pick up the speculum, his graceful, gloved fingers rubbing a dollop of lube over the long metal instrument. Since when was such a gesture so erotic?

When the cool metal entered your overheated flesh, your head fell back onto the table and you closed your eyes, praying that this would be over soon, before you did something really fucking stupid, like moan. He completed the pap smear, which felt slightly uncomfortable, but was over so quickly that you barely had time to notice. You were certain that you were in the clear, when he purred, "Now, I'm going to insert two fingers and check your ovaries. Then you'll be good to go."

Oh shit, you had forgotten about this part. Opening your eyes, you glanced down between your spread thighs, and almost whimpered at the sight of his beautiful face so close to your pussy. When he slowly pulled out the speculum and stood up off the stool, you felt a jolt of disappointment. However, you didn't have to worry, because he then moved closer to the table, standing between your spread thighs as he grabbed more lube. You watched, mesmerized, as he lathered up two of his fingers before lowering his hand between your legs.

You let out an involuntary gasp when his eyes lifted and locked onto yours, his expression intense and scrutinizing as he began to push his long, thick digits inside you. Between the heat of his gaze and the pressure of his fingers stretching your walls, you couldn't help yourself…and let out a low moan. Even through the gloves, he had to be able to tell how wet you were…to tell what a dirty little girl you were, getting turned on by a god damn gyno exam. Dr. Negan's lips curved into a grin, and his eyes darkened almost to the color of espresso.

When his fingers were fully inside you, he brought his other hand up and placed it on your bare stomach. Your muscles twitched under his palm, and goosebumps broke out across your flesh. This was dirty and wrong on so many levels, but you were too turned on to care. His palm pressed down on your stomach, and you moaned again, this time a little louder. Your eyes closed as you heard his voice, which sounded huskier than before, purr, "Everything looks good. Better than good. You're fucking perfect."

With that, he slid his hand a little lower on your stomach, pushing down into the soft flesh once more, at the same time that the fingers inside you curled upwards sharply. Your back arched as you cried out in ecstasy, shock rolling through you along with the waves of pleasure as you unexpectedly came all over Dr. Negan's fingers.

When you were finally able to open your eyes and take a breath, you saw that he was still standing between your thighs. He was staring down at the two fingers that had been inside you, and that were now covered in an obscene amount of pussy juice. He cocked his head to the side and stroked his clean hand over his beard before giving you a slow grin. "Well now…that was mighty fucking interesting," he growled.

He slowly pulled off the gloves and deposited them in the waste basket near the door. Reaching down, his bare hands wrapped around your ankles before slowly sliding up your calves. You shivered when his fingers teased the back of your knees before sliding back down to wrap around your ankles and lift your legs gently out of the stirrups. He held out his hand to help you sit up, and you reached out to take it instinctively, his big, rough hand warm against your own. The gown fluttered open again, showcasing your breasts, and his eyes flickered down to stare at them hungrily. Considering that he had just had his fingers inside you, and gave you an orgasm in the process, you didn't see the point in closing the gown. In fact, you _wanted_ him to look at you, to see your nipples hard and aching for him.

After a few seconds of frozen silence, he turned and silently walked over to the desk, grabbing a pen and jotting down another year's prescription for your birth control. He then picked up the chart, handed you the scrap of paper, and gave you a devious grin and a wink before exiting the room. You sat there on the examination table for a few minutes after he left, your mind racing a million miles a minute as you tried to process what the fuck had just happened. Had you really just…yep…yep you had.

You almost felt disappointed as you slid off the table and started getting dressed, knowing that you wouldn't see Dr. Negan again for an entire year. However, your hopes were restored when you went out to the receptionist desk to retrieve your packet of general information and receipt. There, stapled between the insurance verification printout and an STI information sheet, was a scrap of paper with a scrawling, hand-written note.

 **Next time we should try it without the gloves and gown.**

There was a cell number written underneath, with no name. But you knew who it was from.

Grinning the whole way out of the building, you waited until you got to the car to pull out your cell phone. Entering the number from the paper, a smile curled your lips as you sent him the text.

 _When should I schedule my follow-up appointment? ;)_

You gave a squeal of excitement when your phone buzzed not even a minute later. Anticipation curled in your stomach as you read his reply.

 _How about tonight?_

Giving an excited fist-pump, you started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. You didn't stop smiling the entire drive home.


	25. Y is for Yearning

**Y is for Yearning**

How insatiable is Negan when it comes to sex? In all honesty, it depends on the day.

Sometimes, Negan just wants to fuck quick and hard, ramping up both your pleasure at a record pace, before pushing you over the edge and making you scream his name. Other times, he wants to take his time, thrusting into you slow and steady, giving enough friction to make you whine and beg, but not enough friction to make you orgasm. He continues at that pace for what feels like forever, until you feel as if you have to come or you'll die. And then, only when he has pushed you as far as possible, when you're pleading incoherently and your head is thrashing and body shaking with coiled pleasure…only then, does he let both of you come. Though these two instances are vastly different in both time and intensity, a single round is usually enough. One quick and hard or long and slow orgasm to satisfy both of you for the night.

But then there are the other times. The times when Negan gets that devilish twinkle in his eye, his lips curling in a smirk that makes you instantly wet. When he gives you _that_ look, then you know that you're in for a long, sleepless night. That he plans on making the two of you come over and over again, showcasing his impressive stamina, and even more impressive recovery time. For an older man, Negan's dick sure has no problem getting hard again, and there are times when you struggle to keep up with his stamina. Times when you beg for a power nap in between rounds, causing Negan to chuckle and kiss your forehead before drawling, "Sure, doll. You get twenty fucking minutes, and then that pussy is mine again."

Those are the nights when you wake up sore and stiff the next morning, showcasing marks of Negan's lust all over your body. Those are also the nights when you orgasm more in an 8-hour period than you ever did in an entire week with any previous partners. And, those are the nights when you know what it means to be, well and truly…and _utterly_ satisfied.


	26. Z is for ZZZ

**Z is for ZZZ**

It was around 4:00am when your eyes blinked open sleepily. Moonlight streamed in through the large windows, illuminating the bed and causing deep shadows to play about Negan's room. A smile curved your lips at the weight of a heavy arm draped over your hip, and the warm cup of a hand over your breast. You could just hear the soft inhales and exhales behind you, Negan's breath blowing softly on the back of your neck. It was rare for him to allow you to spend the night in his bed. According to him, it was unfair to his other wives to let you stay the night. But, once in a while, he would give in, rolling over to his side of the massive king-sized bed and drifting off to sleep, without commanding you to leave.

If anyone were to ask Negan what he thought about cuddling, he would say that it was "for fucking pussies." And yet, every time he let you stay the night, the two of you would fall asleep on opposite sides of the bed…only to wake up entangled together in the crimson sheets.

At first, you weren't sure what had woken you up, since you usually slept like the dead (the actual dead) when in Negan's arms. However, the mystery was solved when you felt the hand cupping your breast squeeze gently, before it drifted down over your stomach and rested so that the tips were caressing your pubic bone.

Negan was awake.

Smiling, you made to turn in his arms, wanting to see his gorgeous face caressed by the moonlight. However, the arm around you tightened, and his sleep-roughened voice whispered in your ear, "Stay right where you are, baby girl."

Relaxing with a sigh, you waited to see what he planned to do next. It wasn't long before the fingers tracing circles on your flesh moved lower, his warm fingers pushing your thigh up and back over his own, so that you were spread out in front of him. He then slid his hand back in front of you, fingers trailing down through your curls before cupping your mound possessively. You couldn't help arching into him, wordlessly begging his fingers to part your lips and move inside you. When he ran one finger down the line of your slit, you gave a tiny whimper of eagerness. You didn't have to look back at him to know that he was grinning when he murmured, "Patience, doll."

He continued that way for a couple minutes, gently teasing your soft flesh, but not giving you any of the pressure or friction that you needed. Sweat broke out along your limbs as you fought to relax and let him have control of your pleasure, despite the fact that you wanted to tell him to just fuck you already.

Finally, one of his fingers delved between the lips of your pussy and pushed inside, causing a soft cry of satisfaction to fall from your lips. But it still wasn't enough…and he knew it. Thrusting shallowly in and out of your body, it was a few long minutes of torture before he finally added a second finger…and then a few more minutes before he added a third. Finally giving you the fullness that you craved, your hips started involuntarily rolling against his hand, silently pleading for him to pick up the pace and make you come. At this point, after months of fucking, he knew every sensitive spot on your body, as well as the rhythms and motions that drove you crazy. Which meant that he also knew exactly how to tease you and draw out your pleasure until it was almost painful.

Your breathing was loud and labored as his fingers continued to push in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Once in a while his thumb would pass lightly over your clit, causing you to gasp. It wasn't until you gave a cry of frustration that the purr came from behind you, "What do you fucking want, doll? Tell me."

You answered immediately, ready to say whatever he wanted…ready to beg if needed. Anything to make him stop teasing and fuck you. "I want your cock in me, Sir. Please."

You gave a whimper of disappointment when his fingers left you, but when they were replaced with the pressure of his thick cock at your entrance, your nails gripped the sheets and you gave a needy, "Oh, god. Yes!"

He slid into you, slow as molasses, making sure you felt every single inch of him stretching you out. He went so slow and so deep that you swore you could feel the veins on his cock rubbing along your over-sensitized flesh. Your mouth was open on a silent cry, your body frozen in pleasure as he thoroughly possessed you with one thrust. When he was finally the whole way in, his balls warm against your ass, you gave a full-body shiver at the feeling of being so full…so complete.

His hoarsely whispered words puffed against the back of your neck, causing goosebumps. "You want more, doll?"

You gave a gasped "yes!" and braced yourself, expecting him to start thrusting in and out, like his fingers had been doing before. Instead, he started to pull out just as slowly as he had entered, causing you to whine in frustration. You didn't know how he was able to stay in control like this, how he was able to hold back his own pleasure in order to tease you so thoroughly.

When he had pulled almost the entire way out, he taunted, "How do you want it, baby girl…slow and easy?" He snapped his hips so that his cock slammed back into you as he snarled, "Or fast and rough?"

You cried out loudly at his harsh thrust, gasping for air so that you could beg, "Faster…harder."

His deep voice gave a chuckle, and your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure when he purred, "Whatever you want, princess."

Pushing his free arm underneath you, he wrapped it up and across the front of your chest, pulling you tight against him so that you couldn't move your upper body. His other arm was locked over your lifted thigh, so that you couldn't remove it from his hip. His hand flattened over the soft skin of your stomach to steady you. It was only then, only when he had you deliciously restrained and positioned exactly how he wanted, that he started thrusting in earnest. His long, thick cock pulled most of the way back, before it slammed back inside you. You gave a cry with each thrust, finally getting the friction and pace that you desired. The sounds of your cries and Negan's grunts were accompanied by the sloppy, wet sounds of your pussy and the smack of his balls slapping against your ass. When the hand at your stomach moved down and found your clit, the fingers rubbing in the quick, rough motion that he knew was guaranteed to make you come, your cries turned to screams.

You came so hard and fast that it knocked the air out of your lungs. Waves of bliss wound through every pore of your flesh, causing you to tip your head back in ecstasy. The moon stared down at you through the window, as if a voyeuristic witness to your pleasure. Negan groaned at the feel of your tight walls contracting around him, and it wasn't long before he was following you over the precipice. You felt him come in hot spurts deep inside you, the sensation causing you to gasp and shudder. His fingers were still working hard at your clit, and the friction started to become too much. However, when you tried to jerk away, Negan's arms tightened around you, locking you into place so that you couldn't escape.

You cried out as he continued to drive his cock in and out of you, the wet sounds becoming even more pornographic as his cum mixed with your wetness and trailed down over the front of your thigh to the bedsheet. You were just about to beg him to stop, to tell him that it was too much…when another orgasm unexpectedly rocked your body. You heard a throaty scream…and realized that it had come from your own throat. You couldn't bring yourself to care about the sounds you made as a second, stronger tidal wave of pleasure rolled through you. This time you shuddered so hard that it was a wonder Negan was able to keep his grip on you. He pushed you through it with his skillful cock and talented fingers, until you were well and truly spent. Only then did he remove his fingers from your clit, his arms from your body, and his cock from your pussy.

Rolling over onto your back, you lay staring up at the ceiling, struggling to catch your breath. At the sound of a chuckle, you glanced over and saw him lying on his side, head propped up on one hand as his heavy-lidded eyes drifted down over your naked body. When your heart-rate had returned to normal, and you felt able to control your limbs again, you rolled towards him, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips. Instead of pulling away, Negan settled back against the pillows, pulling you up against his side so that your head was pillowed on his shoulder. You laid a hand on his chest, your fingers twisting lazily in his salt-and-pepper chest hair as you smiled dreamily.

Exhausted, you were already starting to drift off when you sleepily teased, "I thought cuddling was for pussies."

His only response was a lightly huffed, "Shut up, doll," before the two of you drifted back to sleep.


End file.
